As quickly as their season shone, the blossoms fell away; and in their departure, a melancholy settled as happens to spirits inclined and to weigh value in beauty when circumstance and appearance change. Through her lament—unspoken but discerned—he comforted; showing by his own means that beauty is not a gifted purpose in and of itself, but—like the blossom—serves a greater purpose; and it is only in time of after-change, when blossom dies and fruit begins—awkward in its beginning, expanding and becoming—that greater Wonder manifests.
Spring is but a season, season of beauty and gifted hope that beckons life to try—to dare, to create, sustain, and restore such beauty then seen by conjoining and creation of life’s chance, seeding the world in promise of another season after autumns and winters run their course; when one age dies away and—in new generation’s spring—another rises; cycle eternal, restoration of life and beauty, for as long as hope succeeds.
While there is miracle in the bloom; greater miracle bears in the after: in creation of life in hope and chance that such beauty may endure, cyclic and eternal, forever in the springs of after-generations.
This is the Hope—purpose of the beauty—gifted possibility by bloom.