I can relate to Persephone,
her annual descent
to the underworld
so much like
the depth of despair
which has entangled
me repeatedly
when winter’s icy embrace
covers the land.

The seeds of the succulent
pomegranate so enticing,
how can one refuse to partake
when the reaper is beckoning?

Ah, but Spring always
follows Winter,
that darkest of dark
nights,
my soul struggling
to find Light,
until finally
the earth turns,
the Sun melts snow and ice,
while budding trees
and early crocus blossoms
correspond with
the soaring of my soul,
boundless energy,
a brand-new recognition
of Light,
and once again
I can ascend
into the world
of the living,
because Spring
helped my soul
to mend.

@Kamea Moonmaiden

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2 thoughts on “Spring Always Follows Winter

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