A look out the window showcased an amazingly beautiful day. The brightest sun shinning through a stark and gray sky, like my melancholic heart in the light of life. Colorful leaves on the wet ground like a carpet cushioning every step, devoid of life but bright.
Leaves randomly blown away by a whimsical wind, like some of the dreams and hopes I had for this year. Some seem to twirl around lazily, careless of where they'll fall.
Others are still hanging, if only by a tiny but strong speck, to the branch that held their life.
And so a season ended, and so another one began to transition into yet another one. Soon, before we know it, winter will be here. The season of death, the season of laying down. It feels sad...
...except, there is beauty in the laying down. Because like my dreams, the leaves ominously announcing the cold and lonely winter are making beauty. They make beauty as they journey the crisp autumn wind unto a premature demise...
...there is life in the dying. Because like my hopes, the loss of the leaves that exposes a bare, beautiful trunk does not bring with it the loss of life. Life is rooted deep within, grounded strong even when the cold must be faced nakedly.
...there is promise in the flying away. Because like my wishes, the leaves that fly away from their life are only making room from new ones to grow. Only when we surrender do we receive, not our wishes but those richer and better than our own. Desires yet to be discovered as they are brought without from the life within.
A change of seasons for sure...
