Yes we have these four great gods
We call the seasons working
But don't you feel a fifth
Mood that moves them all along
When each has made its attempt
To build the earth again
And stands there waiting
For a few expectant days
Let's call that season Silence
As when one is in the presence
Of death or love or both
Waiting for time to start again
And then suddenly it's fall
Or spring or whatever that
Fifth god has planned
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