There’s a touch of warmth to the evening air.
There’s just enough warmness to stir to life
that budding promise and expectation to believe
that this vigil of dark lonely nights
will gently pass into a brighter awakening.
Soon, the glory of the divine will appear
so naturally, and so inconspicuously,
in a wondrous glorious floral homage,
gaily displaying an array of pleasing colours
enough to satisfy even this pilgrim’s heart.
With the same permutations as last year,
it still feels different to me.
I’m older, and time has brought new struggles,
as well as some new joys in my life.
In the past 12 months, I’ve changed.
Some of which are visible, others not so much.
Change is inevitable, despite my struggle to
stop it at times.
Wrestling the discomfort that change brings
is part of what makes living so hard at times.
My attachment to what was is difficult to give up.
But nature shows me that some things have to die
to make way for rebirth.
