Before the day even begins, I am desperate to escape to the other side of my front door

I stumble to put on my shoes, fumble around for my favorite jacket

And valiantly reach for the knob, give it a twist, and proceed.

The cold, crisp air embraces the warm brightness of the sun, 

which, together, embrace me with welcome,

Gently reminding me that peaceful pleasure and uncomfortable pain are often paired.

Together they form a stern assurance, urging me to accept that one cannot exist without the other

And I feel a mixture of disappointment and relief,

Knowing that one helps me identify the other, that I may remain thankful for what each teaches. 

I sympathize with the trees, who lose all of their leaves one by one

But not before crying out in colors of yellow, then orange, then red

And as the last leaves leave their old home to meet the damp, uncharted ground,

The tree reveals its grieving, gnarly fingers and arms,

Frozen in a perpetual state of melancholy, at least for awhile.

Yet the cold grants the tree patience, and its leaves will return one day

As if no time had passed at all.

I am happy for that tree, because I know they will be reunited once again

Although it has yet to happen 

I wonder if that tree can see my future, just as I can see hers

Is she happy for me? She doesn’t talk much, as if to say:

Wait and see, child. One day it will all be worth it.

I smile and wish her well, until tomorrow

On my next morning walk in early October.

Now I am ready to face today, knowing that I have a friend just down the street

Who knows how it feels to lose everything and get it back again,

With every season that will come our way.