The pink cherry blossoms lining the streets
The petals trailing behind the trees
Caught my eye and a younger me eagerly whipped out her phone
Snapping pictures of the delicate flowers
Fluttering in the late winter wind

A year later
And the cherry blossoms are back
But the person who took the photos is gone

Maybe not
Maybe she’s still there
Reworked
Caught in bursts of revelations
All in quick succession

The changes were different each time
Some were small and spoke to me in a whispery voice
Floating by on idyllic afternoons draped with robin-blue skies
Others were big and flashy
Desperate that I wouldn’t miss them

I was pummeled with new ideas by a constant wind
Ideas I needed
Self-love
Purpose
Unconditional justice

I welcome the whirlwind
Its lungs have fed me love
And left me with a garden of rosebuds
Epiphanies waiting to bloom

The cherry blossoms are leaving
Replaced by crimson leaves that cover the pale pink blooms
A breeze picks up the petals
Who will I be when the cherry blossoms return?