The Soul Tree: A Cycle Renewed

[نورالدين بليغ]

The Soul Tree: A Cycle Renewed

Oh, if only we held autumn's wisdom in our heart,

Not to leave summer's sun, its splendors to depart,

But to master the soft art of letting fears fall apart,

To shed the heavy load of old pains, a brand new start.

These feelings, faded, worn by waiting's long embrace,

Beaten by cold winds, a harsh and chilling pace,

Or by memories' weight, a burden hard to chase,

Becoming heavy chains, tormenting the soul's space.

They're but old sorrows' debris, carried through the years,

A string of disappointments, unfulfilled old tears,

Dreams that took to flight, dispelling all our cheers,

Shreds of the past, forever bound by fears.

They hinder every step, weigh down the weary mind.

But shaking them away, is not the path's sad end, you'll find,

It's a door to new beginnings, an essence so entwined.

An act of inner strength, a power truly kind.

To cast the past aside, is not to just ignore,

But to learn its lessons well, then step onto the shore.

A chance for the soul to breathe, to be reborn once more,

To welcome hope's sweet wave, the sun's light to adore.

Like the tree that sheds its leaves, setting itself quite free,

Its vital force it gathers, in roots, profoundly deep,

Preparing for new circles, where new life it will keep,

A fresh cycle of being, from end to end to sweep.

In this grand clearing away, our passport does reside,

Towards a spring awaited, with fervor, and a guide.

This spring's no mere season, a simple passing tide,

But new life, a sweet landscape where all our hopes can stride.

For fresh and pure emotions, ready to unfold,

For hope's sweet blossoms opening, after darkness untold,

For joyful birds now singing, a future bright and bold,

Within the heart's own gardens, far from walls of old.

It's the spring of new encounters, that will surely bloom,

Of chances unexpected, dispersing all the gloom,

Of dreams we thought were vanished, escaping from the tomb,

Regaining all their luster, lighting up the room.

Our passion for this spring, is not a wish in vain,

But certainty that after dry, the fertile comes again,

That after fading sorrow, blossoming will remain.

It's faith in the human soul, a sovereign, strong domain.

Like the earth, it knows renewal, how to turn green and bright,

Despite harsh, bitter winters, it never yields the fight.

This ardent fire's our engine, directing us with might,

It pushes us onward, toward a future full of light.

Armed with endless hope, to a serene tomorrows' call,

Where feelings, thought forever lost, will stand up strong and tall,

To flourish once again, vibrant, rooted for us all,

Coloring our lives with gratitude, lest we ever fall.

NOUR EDDINE BALIGH