Poem: Secret letter of spring

A morning with the sun shining,
As if in the air
A call for sleepless love.
The white flowers hanging on the branches
Smile silently
As if waiting for someone,
Who will come through the shadow of the clouds
And leave a feeling on the leaves of the heart.

The wind touches them,
But it does not awaken any cries,
Rather, they dance softly
As if to explain, Love does not mean getting, Love means waiting,
Blooming until it falls.

Standing in the shade of the tree, I see,
What a strange peace in the life of these flowers.
They know that life is fleeting,
Yet how bright!
They know that falling is not the end,
Rather, the story of another season begins.

The white petals are like white clouds,
and the small pink buds
are the colorful expectations of the heart,
who have not yet blossomed,
but are waiting to blossom.

Each flower whispers
we will all fall one day,
but I will leave a fragrance in your memory,
a piece of spring sunshine by your window,
where you will remember me
as a white flower,
who one day spread its fragrance in your silent afternoon.