primavera, renacer...
You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you dies each year when the leaves fall from the trees and their branches are bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person had died for no reason...
Searching for the spring that may be lost in the multitude...
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