The Trouble with Spring

The trouble with Spring
Is new things are born;
The birthing is painful
And leaves you forlorn.

The trouble with Spring
Is all of the flames
Destroying the old
So ashes remain.

The trouble with Spring
Arrives as a flood;
It carries you downstream
All covered in mud.

The trouble with Spring
Is breezes and gales
That capsize your boat
And tear up the sails.

The trouble with Spring
Is easy to find.
The question is whether
We let it inside!

The trouble with Spring
Just might be a gift,
A rainbow of color
To bless and to lift.

The trouble with Spring,
The ebb and the flow,
Is moving us onward
To more than we know.

The trouble with Spring
May leave you forlorn.
The birth may be painful,
But new things are born!

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