My annual exam is over

Winter, autumn or spring
I don’t know
Who cares! I see flowers and fruits all around
vegetables flood on the ground
I have reaped them all
a comforting weather - quiet, pristine
leaves moving; golden, green, or silver
falling or rising why bother
times
now, no more
my annual exam is over
peeling oranges in the sun
listening to birds and brooks
liberated from those
lazy letters in books
vibrant, in peace, at ease with me
nothing to prove; failed and fared many times
with flying, fading colors
now, out of the past,
I am always seasonal, to live and learn
moments of being have begun.