Springtime.
When the first signs of life appear.
After the cold, harsh winter
Hope is restored.
Each bud upon the brown branch
Is like a prayer
A promise.
Time passes by
And the sun only grows in heat.
The buds turn to gorgeous flowers,
Complementing the blue sky.
The flowers then turn to emerald leaves
And the peak of their lives,
As quickly as its come,
Has diminished.
Fall races full speed round the corner
And the pieces of life change for one last time.
No longer emerald but
Gold
Ruby
Orange
And then..
Brown.
The wind gusts across their homes,
Challenging their strength
And their ability to hold on.
In the end, however
When winter comes again,
There are no survivors.
They all find their way to the ground.
We are all leaves on the tree that we call life.
Fearfulness however, is unwise.
Because after every winter
Comes a spring,
And a new chance for life has begun.