The winter is ending. 

I slog my way out of my cocoon, 

my cave of continuous dormancy.

I was finally getting used to it.

My eyes are cut by the sun’s rays. 

I take in the warmth. 

All this time I expected an immediate rush—

of excitement. 

Impending goodness. 

I expected the enriching feelings 

of creativity and lustered thought, 

but as my awareness sank into me, 

my heart sank too.

I was free—

to be fragile, frail and vulnerable.

I was hidden in the shadows, 

protected by the darkness of winter. 

But now— 

I am broken open to the world.
Spring has sprung and so must I. 

As I face the realities of the days that lie ahead, 

I know that the sun will illuminate everything 

that I have grown through. 

So, as my eyes adjust to the exposure, 

I am reminded of my viscous existence— 

settled into the mold of my grievances.

I’ve longed for this so much, 

forgetting what it truly brings.

The revelation. 

The appearance of all that I’ve become, 

is now exalted upon the glare of the silver sky.

I look up with honest eyes. 

I must acknowledge that I no longer recognize myself.