[a triptych of sorts]

The child ran through summer fields and valleys ,carefree,
enjoying the bounty of life
Then the winter came and the child grew...
It is right that one must learn to see the beauty in winter too.
Some one put a wrench in the gears of my grandfather clock.
Indeed it stopped but the gears kept saying "Its time to move"
And the clock groaned and wailed at it stagnancy.
The sage said to me
"Responsibilty becomes your crutch
Things you once held dear, become so blasé.
Until, you sir become the sage"


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