Like the dying leaves, these burdens fall to the ground
Bright golden fire raining down
Drifting through the wind
Soon to be buried by the all encompasing snow
Erasing away what lies beneath it

Spring is to come
A clean slate
A new beginning
There is hope that this cycle will be over
But it could never last

Like the seasons, I am forever changing
I accept sin and seek forgiveness
I grow like the tall oaks
Starting over when given the chance
But holding tight to the roots that have kept me here, grounded.