What to say of the coming of spring? How I learned not to ask why, and just let the seasons change within. Let them change between me and everyone I ever knew.
Even if all those gentle Crocuses look like hearts already broken, I pluck one and apologize. I recognize the sheer force of the will for life against the winter. I see it inside.
Maybe it’s time I was alone again. Even as the world wakes up and busies itself with togetherness. Maybe it’s time I listened to myself.
“You cannot enter any world for which you do not have the language.”*
You can not learn any language without listening deeply for something new. Something like a new life, like a new spring. The possibilities that are beyond old expectations, old stories. Possibilities you don’t even have the imagination for just yet, but the endurance of life depends on the blind hope for it.
And one day the Crocuses come again, and you can see them, sprouting on the lawn — little, tender, fragile – but still so, so strong.
*Quote by Ludwig Wittgenstein