In response to; CCC # 63, hosted by Crispina

Some branches never choose between endings and beginnings.
They simply hold both — quietly, steadfastly — like a truth you only see when you stop running from it.

The alder breathes in colours of bruised purple and tender green, cones curled like memories that refused to fall, catkins soft as promises not yet lived.
A whole year trembles there, suspended.

Looking at it, I felt something loosen inside me.
Grief and hope are not opposites; they grow from the same stem, feed from the same roots. One teaches the other how to stay.

And maybe that is why I was drawn to this picture —
because it looked like the way my heart feels these days:
carrying the things that hurt, and the things that heal,
side by side
on the same fragile branch.

💫Maggie

The Afterlove Voice 💫

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