The Violets Must Think It's Spring

Last November was surprisingly warm. So warm in fact, that I noticed my friends from the springtime - the violets - blooming again. 

It was such a beautiful thing for me, it also reminded me of where I was in my mental health journey a year before. Seeing the violets bloom in autumn reminded me that broken things can heal, and that there is beauty even in dark days.

I wrote this poem, barefoot outside one November day, delighting in the combination of dying November leaves and springs best flower.

This November is stereotypical - cold and gray. But I find myself remembering the violets of last year, remembering that even in the dreariness that comes this time of  year, even though it gets dark early, there is still so much beauty. 

The Violets Must Think It's Spring​
The violets must think it's spring,
For they are blossoming.
Pale white faces with purple veins - -
Hardly ready for winter's strains.
The violets must not remember
That in fact it is November
Not time for flowers to bloom,
But time for dark gray gloom.

My spirit must think it's spring;
My soul is whistling.
For the first time in years, free from the pains.
I feel as though I've been doused in healing rains. 
I must try not to remember
Where I was last November.
Hidden in the midst of gloom,
Never knowing this girl could bloom.

The violets must think it's spring;
But I wouldn't change a thing.

Belle Thomas

.​Belle is the writer behind An Old Fashioned Girl. She is passionate about Jesus, good books, and living a beautiful life.