As the leaves swayed at the wind,
a wind that no longer brought the shiver,
the mighty tree felt the fragrance of spring,
oblivious to the chill that made its leaves quiver.

As true it is, a flower comes to life in spring,
so true it is, the winter was its womb.
While the foliage endured the winter's brume,
the flora stayed concealed, from the cold's sting.
(Concealed in its bud-the floral womb).

As the fog grew thin, arrived autumn.
The leaves hit their rock bottom.
Ruthless, it seemed of nature
to behold the fruit of endurance.

To endure the frigid winds, in silence
and end up in the abyss of a dead future.

But, behind all the fog lied a silver lining.
As a leaf bid bye to the tree,
new life sprouted at its node,
to blossom at spring, alive and free.

- Landlocked Sailor