On grief and the changing seasons

The butterflies are chasing one another

The air grows warmer and more tender

The gardener is contemplating the seasonal rhythm of her plants.

The winter has seemingly waved her unwanted goodbye as if it wasn’t planned

And the spring is waiting to be fully awake.

This cycle of life and death, of rest and growth

Oh, this I deeply know and yet I always find myself in grief.

There is this little tree with yellow flowers, her name I have yet to know, indeed

She bloomed brightly in the middle of the footpath.

Every day as I walked past, 

there she was, dancing with the winter morning sun

Then one day, out of the blue, the yellow flowers disappeared

Leaving behind the tree with mere despair.

Well, I guess I was just pessimistic, my dear

Who always tries to hold so tight onto something 

that’s already left in the past.

The tree might have found her new joy, perhaps

As new green leaves come around.

September 10th, 2024

(inspired by the tree with yellow flowers

and my little garden as I was looking at how my plants have changed as the seasons change)


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