The turning of a day, a month, a year, a second–the heart holds phases, as in all of nature. The Fall of sorrow. The winter-wilting ‘morrow. Spring wakes a blooming rose. Summer lulls warmth and love grows. No worries, you see, for the heart is nature, and it has its reasons. It waits like winter. Springs open for a reason. Love is, always will be, a law of nature … a turning of seasons.