The frost has fallen on the vows we made,
And summer’s gold is lost in winter’s grey.
Within this quiet room where light must fade,
I watch the embers slowly die away.
I fold away the ghosts of what has been,
The letters and the scent of jasmine faint.
A tragedy played out, a silent scene,
Devoid of anger and devoid of taint.
No bitter words shall pass these weary lips,
For beauty lived before it had to cease.
As sun behind the mountain slowly dips,
I grant our troubled spirits final peace.
Farewell, sweet sorrow, phantom of the heart,
The leaves must fall to feed the root below.
Though now we choose to walk our ways apart,
From frozen ground, a new flower yet may grow.
In the silence of goodbye, we often find the loudest truths. This poem serves as a gentle reminder that even in the deepest winter of our hearts, the seeds of a new spring lie waiting beneath the snow.
