Change

This time of the year,

We stare up at the trees.

Taking in the beauty of the leaves changing color.

But change isn’t always like that.

Sometimes change is each leaf falling to the ground,

Dropping one by one until the branches are bare.

Naked to the harsh winds of winter.

Sometimes change is flowers growing,

Blossoming, reaching out to full bloom.

Sometimes change is withering petals shrinking into themselves.

Sometimes change is glorious, empowering, strength.

Sometimes change is gut wrenching pain.

Often times, change is both,

Mixing together in a way we don’t quite understand,

One thing leading into the other, melting into each other’s embraces.