momento raro de poesia.

like a tree in the winter
i stand bare of my former innocence
ive lost all my ilusions
green and dewy
all my childish expectations
soft in the weak sunlight
i stand
tough as bark
rooted in the ground that surrounds me
and i mourned
my likely death

yet spring comes
eventually
and i come to understand
to love freely
is so strange now
so rare and hard to find.
but to love
with all its thorns and edges
is still possible
and leaves grow
and flowers bloom
and the earth sighs with tender expectation.