Each day, I always try to count the flowers.
And each night, I would not miss
to count the stars.
And when I just couldn’t find many flowers in fall or in winter,
I still try to count the fallen leaves
and even the branches of the trees.
And during nights when the stars will not come,
I would slowly try to count
the lunar rays instead.
The flowers and the stars,
the trees and the moon,
Gave me inspiration and wisdom,
enough shelter and strength.
To help me emerge victorious
from each phase of my journey with grief.
But how many times do I have to feel
that I am always back to where I’ve started?
How long does it take to stay in this dead end that trapped me?
Yes, I am once again in this labyrinth.
I walk its path—day after day, night after night, back and forth, in and out.
The recurrence, triggered memories,
the deeper layers,
the unending winding circular path.
And now I crave for solitude and rest,
solace and insight.
I need my energy and my inner self back.
And as I stood in my own labyrinth
staring at the orange leaves falling from a tree,
My steps began again, slowly finding me.
I continued to make more steps
as the leaves started to fall around me.
The leaves scattered in front of me represent
the losses and sad memories.
And as I felt the slightest breeze
released many of them from their branches,
I have found
just enough love and faith to sustain me.
