A Beautiful Breakdown

Summer is coming. I can feel it hanging above my head like the lingering scent of something burning. Of time burning. The heat is heavy on my pale skin. Sun-starved and fragile, I turn my eyes to the horizon, grasping for light; warmth. I'm desperate. The cold has chilled my bones, Frozen my heart, and numbed my songless soul. I'm praying that the summer bring peace. I need solace, and to find it in something I trust. I trust this season. I have faith in it's restoring power. I have faith in the magic of a dip in the river, a nap in the field, A book in the garden, or a glass of sweet tea on the porch. I believe in the prospect of summer. That when you've nothing left to hold on too, The sun will grab you by the wrist and pull you forward, Saying, "Wake up, child. The new day is yours." It's that whispered encouragement on a gentle breeze, That I put my faith in. So let's not dwell in the fragility of the past any longer. A change in the present will never alter the past. The winter has gone and the fields are green once more, And ripe with the promise of a bountiful harvest. So, like a long kept secret, Fasten yourself to the turn of the season, And breathe deep the relief and hope Of the season of sun.