While the Blossoms Fall

Under the cherry tree, hand in hand,
we watched the petals drift like snow.
They did not ask for forever—
only to be seen,
to be held
for one perfect breath.

Your laugh was louder than the breeze,
your touch warmer than spring.
And I thought—how foolish I’d been
to cling to seasons past
instead of dancing
while the blossoms fell.

The moment passed—
as all moments must—
but it passed through me,
not around me.
I let it break me open,
and fill me with something
so brief,
so bright,
I finally understood
what it meant
to live.

© Susie Stiles-Wolf