As the colors of spring begin to wrap around the soul,
a simple reflection of a lingering absence
awakens the part of you that is still alive—
a melody, a laugh, a shadow brushing the air before vanishing—
like a crumpled canvas stretched over the world,
ready to reabsorb time.
And in its weave of colors and lines,
essence is reborn, form recomposes,
an echo of life rewriting itself in art,
like an eternal renaissance of the soul.
Remembering to be oneself, even when breaking apart in the wind.