Seasonal depression

Watching the seasons change through my
bedroom window.

The summer sun finally peaks out from
behind the heavy winter sky that stayed
through spring, and suddenly I’m alive
again.

I feel like getting up.

But I stop and think,
I too am changing.

Maybe my leaves aren’t falling;
and my rain might isn’t freezing, but I’m changing.

I’m changing, and just like the seasons I can’t stop it.

So I get up.

I go out into the sunshine, and I live.

Because I know there will come a day when I will be laying in my bed again, watching the seasons changing through my bedroom window.