Roots That Will Remain

It does not matter when it all begins,

but what does matter is when it all ends.

The past is dead, and the future is unborn,

and the present is a cataclysmic storm

that lies between the two—birth and death.

Some of us will grow old and worn out,

whilst others will find themselves buried

in the ground, waiting to be found.

And as the snow-covered landscape

has never helped me find my way,

I am sure that when spring arrives,

and plants its seed, I will sprout to life,

and begin on a brand new day.

I will no longer be old and dreary,

and my new life will reach new heights,

to where new flowers may bloom

all around me—and, too, by my side.

New friends, a new life, and a new way

to look at things, at each and every day.

And at the end of each and every season,

where there are winds that will blow me away,

my roots will still be here—they will remain.