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.