When Winter Comes In Spring

There is a saintly aura that transcends my life every time seasons change. I can feel it in my bones, my back aches + my mind tries to coerce my spirit into thinking this feeling will pass, but the flesh won’t allow it to subside. It is no surprise that I am deeply introspective + probably more honest than others care for me to be. Blame it on my tragic beginning, all the hearts I broke, the lies I told + the trauma I ingested. I gather my mistakes + rinse them daily because unlike most people I see myself clearly because I like my coffee dark with lots of self- reflection. I sit in every choice + every regret until I can cover every circumstance in forgiveness. Lately I’ve experienced all kind of loss which reminds me that I’m still learning how to let grief take a seat until its ready to vacate my sanctuary.

Recently, I have witnessed the loss of three deaths not at the same time, but they ruptured my soul simultaneously. I knew they were coming + I acknowledged each one separately; however, grief isn’t sudden. It is confusing + quite demanding. It is like trying to wash sadness out of your words before you have a conversation so you won’t ruin someone’s day. It’s like walking around wondering, “What day is it?”  meanwhile you’ve been aware of this day for months. Most days you hold yourself together like the straw that held the camel’s back together. Barely. Meanwhile, when people hug you the remnants of you shatter like broken glass as you watch the stains of reality hit the floor. I digress.

Despite all of this, I am grateful. Now as I pick of the pieces of what’s left + gently reboot my life I acknowledge that things can still bloom even when its cold outside. That even when things die + people transition, the memories hold us together. So in this season I am grieving + understanding things while being mature about the outcome. Don’t worry life is fleeting + eventually the sun will resurrect in a way that will allow it to shine even in the presence of rain.