…standing at the edge of my own winter

I am a harbinger, standing at the edge of my own winter
where for too long without you
I have become empty and colourless
but time now calls for new beginnings
yes, I still hear your echoes
and in my dreams, I still ache to become a petal upon your breeze
but I know that you are forever gone
I can feel my long-held grief, slowly loosening its’ grip on me
deep in my soul I feel something shifting
something that until now I have always carried in secret
unnamed and unspoken, I feel my fists unclenching
as I ponder new beginnings
walking away from my desolation, looking towards the spring
I hear the quiet calls of birds, shivering upon their bare branches
their feathers rippling in the wind, the soft scent of wet bark
and I see the first bulbs bursting through the soil
and I try to imagine their joy, as they await the sun
and how long it might linger upon their fragrant petals
something moves deep inside of me
at the sudden audacity of flowers, that dare to outshine the season
and I reflect on the past and how often I thought
that surrender, was my only option
an unseen and silent tether to you, that I never attempted to break
echoes of words that I left unspoken, still constantly haunting me
but now I am quietly closing this chapter
your eyes will still haunt me and I will still find you in my dreams
for this is the oldest longing of the soul, my own personal labyrinth
filled with dark silhouettes and fragile memories
as I struggle to let you go
©Ann Bagnall