There is nothing in this world more bitter than spring. It brings memories of new love being planted, and flourishing. In the long days of June, the dry wheat is harvested, the cycle of life ends with the inevitability of death. Death of the hope and promise once felt.
The passing seasons remind of us time we spent with those who are no longer by our side. You are free to live your life, the possibilities stretch out to the horizon. But in the silence of a summer evening, when all your chores are done, your mind wonders back to that time when your once beloved was here with you.
There is nothing in this world more bitter than spring. It brings memories of new love being planted, and flourishing. In the long days of June, the dry wheat is harvested, the cycle of life ends with the inevitability of death. Death of the hope and promise once felt.
The passing seasons remind of us time we spent with those who are no longer by our side. You are free to live your life, the possibilities stretch out to the horizon. But in the silence of a summer evening, when all your chores are done, your mind wonders back to that time when your once beloved was here with you.
That's the way I feel about it.