We are desperately clinging to the past
We cannot let it go
We clutch on to it with sweaty palms
Our grasp is slipping
We cling hopelessly to the familiarity of the past
But it can't last

We have to sever the grasp
Against our will,
the hold slips
Lost in the abyss of the past.

We must take an axe to our Roots
Nature will run its course and plant our seeds where they need to be
in order to evolve into a stronger, greater species
After letting go, we let the wind carry our soles elsewhere
Soles sink into new healthy soil
We look behind us
Waiting to see the past chasing us, struggling to catch up
But our eyes behold a new unfamiliar landscape
that's ready to take us through a new adventure

We evolve
We yearn for new self discovery
Passion sizzling in our stems
It may feel like a storm, but it is a mere shower that all flowers need in order to grow and blossom.