Mother
Standing on the cold ground
I fall to my knees
I notice my mother standing by the tree
That I've seen die and bloom
Over and over
It's surroundings dying and blooming more than itself
It's amazing what can be done in a little time
The tree dies, withering to a bent cracked and dried nothing
Into an ever expanding labyrinth of beauty
We all have a chance
Sometimes you just have to go through the cold before you bloom.
The winter's almost over mother, it's time to start anew.
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