Spring

This poem reflects on one of nature's oldest lessons: that endings are never the end.

As winter gives way to spring, new life emerges from landscapes that only weeks before appeared barren and lifeless. The poem uses this seasonal transition as a meditation on transformation, suggesting that decay is not merely loss but part of the process through which new life becomes possible.

It is an invitation to see death, change, and renewal not as separate events, but as movements within the same living cycle.

This is one of my earliest poems, and looking back I can already see many of the ideas that would continue to shape my writing and my personal journey of transformation.

I've long been fascinated by cycles.

• The changing seasons.
• The rhythms of breath.
• The ways identities, relationships, and ways of living sometimes have to end before something more authentic can emerge.

At the time, I was mostly observing this pattern through nature.

Later, I would begin experiencing it much more personally.

One line that has stayed with me is:

“the greatest alchemy yet”

because it speaks to something that still feels true.

Transformation often appears impossible while we are living through it.

Only afterward do we realize that what looked like an ending was quietly becoming the beginning of something else.

I still find comfort in the image that closes the poem: that every ending may simply be an exhale before a new breath.