Holy is that which spring offers the flowers to grow into greenness of summer

Holy is that which the summer offers the autumn to bravely enter a new color

Holy is that which the autumn offers the winter for the landscape to let go 

Holy is that which the winter offers the spring to once again open up to flower 

Holy is that which we can not see

The details in the circle 

The unwritten words in between the poetry

The silence in the middle of it all.