Valentine's Project

Febuary 13

In this world, nothing stays the same forever. Humans, animals, plants, buildings, they all change. As the seconds, minutes, hours and days slowly crawl by in one direction, the world shoots in every other way, finding new things to assume and be. Sometimes it is erratic; other times it is a cycle. None the less, change is always present. The seasons are the greatest example.

From winter to spring, the world reincarnates. The enveloping chill evaporates to the relief of the soft touch of the sun. Ice, its infinitely many forms and formations, slowly breaks apart, flowing through the stream in an endless wave of water. Life shoots out from the ground as frozen barren land gives birth to the cries of gentle saplings. Trees shed their snow white blanket for the green cape of leaves. Life springs back upon the lands for animals, both big and small, emerge from long inaction. Blessings of life bequeath upon them as the next generation prepares for the world.

From spring to summer, the beast, which is life, thrives. Leaves spread out in every way, enveloping the tree with a net of cover. The sun beats down with fury making all seek the comfort of the cool clear springs. Shimmers of hot air haze vision and begs one to do not a thing. Fields of bright yellow rise from plains of green as sunflowers cover all that is to be seen. Cheerful squeals of the young drift from the shelters and shade, masking them from the vileness that is to come.

From summer to autumn, life defies death in a violent burst of red. As the winds numb life and all that is to it, leaves of all shapes ignite into flames of orange and red, warning of the coming of the end. Defying their doom, seeds of life crowd the branches of the desperate, hoping for a chance come spring. The animals, weary of their prospect, seek the last embers of life, kindling their breath in long awaited slumber. The young depart, no longer young enough to be supported as they themselves seek to spread the root of their own kind.

The descends the desolate winter as life is snuffed out by the breath of ice and the greater demons prowl. The active turn dormant, many lives lie sleeping until spring. The cold cocoon of trees nurses the soft heart beat of life that awaits. Demons of the ice and chill prowl and stalk the stubborn who wander. The trickles of water in the earth's vein crystallize and clogs. Life is barely holding.

However, there will come another spring, for life is merely paused, and the cycle of life that was never meant to stop. Through all the similarities, there can never be identical snapshots. Every blade of grass grows a different way, leaves sprout to and from different directions and places, every single animal born different, every leaf falls a different way and every snowflake a different shape. Change is constant, we cannot slow nor stop it but we must learn its flow and to flow with it and not to face it straight on for, in the end, man can only change themselves.

A/N: The last four chapters are place holders. I might return and fill the gaps on another time.