YWP

1; We are born into this love, 

this idea of love. 

It is what begins to form us, 

much like spring 

with budding leaves ...

A bubble of light rests atop the water,

Glimmering and glinting across the lake.

It’s a pocket of sunshine,

A pillow of glowing hope,

A pool of life.

My childhood home is filled with plants,

plants that we never water

but are somehow still alive.

Its island is littered with junk mail,

different types of olive oil,

stray flakes of salt,

In most stories, there’s only two sides.

Though, that is not the case here.

Four sisters, rule the land side by side.

The eldest, Winter, rules with a heart of ice.

As her little sister, Spring creates a sea,