There are few things in this world that cannot fully be explained, that exist, but in shadow. A potted red rose, with buds and blooms, seemingly beautiful on the outside, but oh, when the petals unfurl, speak eloquent truths. The conscious mind is somewhat the same.

I walk barefoot on the sand, inhale the saltiness of the oceanic wind and feel the transition from winter to spring. So much has transpired, these last few months have allowed room for death to seep in, for change to walk in her long red dress and collect grievances. I think back to all of the names swallowed up by the cold and feel breath come out in puffs— this realization that past selves have died only for one to be reborn with wisdom is a painful but liberating feeling.

Can I start over now that it’s spring?

 

 

 

Photo Credits: Pinterest 

Bjorn hosts at dVerse and invites us to write inspired by a line from “After Someone’s Death,” by 
Swedish Nobel Laureate Tomas Tranströmer. Come join us! 🩷

Posted for Prosery Monday @dVerse Poets Pub