Nature, your essence motherly,

I bear within the being of my will;

And my will’s fire-force,

It steels impulses of the spirit,

So they may bear a sense of self

To bear myself in me.

To penetrate my being’s depths:

A longing filled with boding stirs,

That I in self-beholding find myself

As sun-gift of the summer which as seed

In mood of autumn, warming lives

As driving forces of my soul.

 ‘The Calendar of the Soul’ were written by Rudolf Steiner