Friendships that did not end well.
Projects that did not finish well.
Endings that came too soon, abruptly.
Expectations not fulfilled, hopes thwarted.
Responsibilities that weigh down.
Words that sink instead of lift.
Winter exacerbates, drags on, seeps in,
creates the sense that what's to come might be stark and barren like the landscape.
Choosing new colors,
moving on but still unsure.
Tying on new threads with the hope that they are strong enough.
Hearing a different song
but one that still carries the same sweet melody as of old.
Pulling out what doesn't fit, an ache at torn places.
Longing for first things, knowing they are past.
Resolved, once again, to walk on.
Visions seen float by, created only once, not twice.
Sorrowful longing for what wasn't, hoping tentatively for what's to come.
Weaving; warp and woof, the hope of what's to come.
Weary winter gives way to hope and verdant spring.