Shrouds

What is this?
I'm so restless and content.
I'm so happy and sad...
lost and found,
thankful, yet mad.
Sometimes, I am swirling in the sparkle
while the drab grabs at me saying,
"You know, you can't really dance."
Spring is bursting
yet the dirty piles of snow linger
by the side of the road.
My nieces are learning to drive
as my father tries to remember
how to tie his shoes.
​
There is every reason to celebrate
and
every
reason
to 
mourn.
People say,
"You can't fully know joy
without sorrow."
I never bought that.
Joy is really great without the sorrow,
but sorrow is miserable without the joy.

Today,
the vastness of layers
feels too much
and all I know to do is to
lean against this winter tree
so it can feel me breathe
and I can feel it
trying to bud...
because
the shrouds
hang
heavy
with hope
and tears.