PERENNIAL
It would be nice to be a perennial –
To die at season’s end
Only to return as yourself
But a new, refreshed yourself.
A brand new face
That retains the history of youth
And the same old root,
Then and now hidden
From the stars in the sky,
From the eyes of the world.
To die at season’s end
Only to return as yourself
But a new, refreshed yourself.
A brand new face
That retains the history of youth
And the same old root,
Then and now hidden
From the stars in the sky,
From the eyes of the world.