Blossom
The coming of Winter
Means the coming of Death,
Like a distant relative seen during holidays,
Knocking right at the World's door
To sweep away the leaves and blossoms
And leave everything at rest.
It means the slowing down
Of people,
Of work,
Of conversations with people
In relationships you don't
Want to be in.
It means the loss of motivation
For school,
For hobbies
For life.
Winter meant the Death of
My motivation,
My friendships,
My care.
One conflict after another,
Fighting a two-front war
Against both the world's problems
And my own psyche.
But my stubbornness is evergreen.
So with the coming of Spring,
Death will pack up its mess and leave,
Promising to call and visit again,
While Life wakes again
And gets right back to work.
Life picks up where it left off.
Life plants the seeds of
New friendships and new relationships,
And nurses the old ones back to health.
Life lets the light back in
To remind you to get up out of bed,
To get motivated again.
Life tends to the evergreens
And to the new blossoms.
They'll be taken away again by Winter,
Stand the test of Death,
But they make room for
New goals,
New relationships,
New journeys,
Every single year.