I am changing, a perpetual metamorphosis. Like a leaf caught in the whims of time, I twirl through the seasons. Each turn brings a new hue, a fresh face to the world.

In spring, I unfurl like a tender bud, reaching for the sun. My veins pulse with life, and I wear the green cloak of hope. The air smells of possibility, and I sway with the breeze, eager to embrace the warmth.

Summer arrives, and I bask in the golden glory. My edges crisp, kissed by the sun’s fiery lips. I am vibrant, alive, and my laughter rustles through the branches. But even in this exuberance, I know change is inevitable.

Autumn paints me in shades of amber and crimson. I let go gracefully, one by one, as the wind whispers secrets. The ground welcomes my descent, and I become part of the mosaic—a mosaic that tells stories of seasons past.

Winter wraps me in silver frost. I stand bare, stripped of pretense. The world hushes, and I listen. The same tree that cradled me in spring now shelters me from the cold. Roots intertwined; we weather the storms together.

And so, dear friend, count on me. Amidst the dance of seasons, I remain anchored. My essence, my core, belongs to the same tree—the silent witness to my ever-changing journey.

May you find solace in the constancy of your roots, even as you spin through life’s seasons.

© Beatriz Esmer