I Shine!

I’m not dead.

Not by a long shot.

With wry smile you call me “old man”,

and I smile right back at you.

For the light is mine,

and with rainbows,

I shine!

Like the leaves on the trees,

we each have our seasons,

First, a bud so green and bright,

we reach to harvest the light.

And what a harvest is mine!

My granaries overflow,

with bounteous harvest.

So as my summer radiance unwinds,

I do shine!

With all the colors of the rainbow

I leave the green behind.

Yet,

I am not dead.

Not by a long shot.

You may call me “old man”,

and I don’t mind,

My cup of wine does overflow.

And I become a rainbow,

I shine!