a standstill

winds brush by,
whispers of nothing continue.
the glass is gleaming white,
sparking off dazzling smiles
of shine.

green and brown
dust the ground,
rustled and tousled
in the still air
of autumn

the day is young,
but the night beckons,
pulling a ray of hope
from the weakest souls
of today.

i barely breathe
i barely realize
that all this while,
i have been trying to find the light
of life.

count your blessings, im told.
but where are the flowers of spring?