April 2019

Spring will come.

This time a little later.

But it will come, I promise.

Trees and flowers will flourish.

The nights will be shorter.

The silence will feel lighter.

We will sleep better…

Springs always come.

But weirdly, never the same.

To remind us of revival.

Something new, fresh.

Something lively.

This spring appears a bit more special.

Reminding us of one another.

And not just the flowers.

Or sunny days.

But one another.

Calling us to reunite.

But be distant.

To love.

But stay alone.

To dance.

But not touch.

To sing.

But in silence.

Calling us to be more patient.

Before it gives us freedom.

And each other.