Seasons
The heart of my mind and the heart of my soul are vastly different landscapes
I harbor within myself an abandoned winter field, and its impenetrable frozen ground
But within me also breathes an eternal spring of budding new life, forever green
Some days she embraces me with the warmth of the sun
Others she sees me suffer her cold burn
holding her hand until the ache sinks into my bones
I can bravely cross her tundra to spend a day in her bright blue skies
Longing for the day we will all meet in autumn
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