• I've thought about it for awhile.
    I've thought very hard.
    These leaves on my tree of faith are struggling to keep hold.
    They cry out, they weep; it's saddening to see them go.
    My faith is like a tree, always dying off, always coming back.
    I get discouraged, saddened, scared, and angry;
    and the leaves begin to redden.

    Red - the color of passion and love,
    also the color of blood and injury.
    Isn't that ironic?
    The love that we have is most often the bringer of unbearable pain to our happy hearts.

    The leaves, they fall.
    One leaf is paranoid, one leaf is upset. One leaf is discouraged, the other in pain.
    They lie on the ground, feeling helpless and listless.
    Reddened leaves turn brown and die.
    The tree is bar, embarrassed, humiliated; sad.

    But then the spring comes.
    The buds appear; the world is turning green.
    The leaves grow back, fully alive and completely back to normal.
    One leaf is happy, one leaf is secure. One leaf is reassured, the other rejuvenated.
    Faith is reborn, faith is alive.
    The leaves are unashamed, unafraid, unabashed.

    My thoughts are the autumn, and yours the spring.
    During those seasons, I eat away at myself, I rip off my leaves.
    I tend to try to break myself apart.
    But you, you are the spring. You make me happy again.
    You explain that my faith wasn't dead, it was dormant.
    You life me back up, you warm up the budding leaves of my happy thoughts with your sun-like embrace.
    You reassure the tender leaves that hang off the branches of my brain that everything is okay.
    It's a never ending cycle; but as long as spring continues to peak through the self-induced winter,
    faith will never die.