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these, why seasons are
so many
why (we) changing
way too often

stepping out in sandals
enter freezing blizzards
wearing scarf and mittens
get burned by melting hot

about to smell the scent of lillies
breath in troubled dust
rushing out to driest desert
my naked knees soak through mud

being seasoned seasoner
seems not help enough
forseeing unseen-able
ends up rough

these, our seasons
reckless in motion
thus locking us
in motionless loops

thank mindseasons
only
mindgardens
blossom
Be proud of your roots.
Let them grow,
unruly,
wide and deep
where you are.

Be a shelter
for weary souls.
We all need to rest
from time to time.

A shade for travelers;
living can be hard.

Storms will come,
undeniably,
but stand firm.

They will make you stronger.

Just hold on.

We really only need
Sunlight,
Water
and Mother Earth.

The rest isn't needed
for you to truly grow.

And when you die,
die gracefully,
just as you lived,
with your heart open and with
outstretched limbs.

And
maybe... ..

most importantly,
remember...

like a tree,
you are beautiful in every season of your life.
 Jun 2019 Bek Blanchard
roumen
Two lonely empty hands
for you.
They didn't touch
but love you.
Two lonely empty hands
for you.
They didn't promise
but want you.
Two lonely empty hands
for you.
They didn't beg
but hug you.

I know .
you didn't need me
to complete you.
I know.
You didn't want me
to fulfill you.
I know
You didn't
Ask to love you...

But...
I can stop...
For you.
Not me...
Because of love ..

For simple touch.
For lonely kiss.
For empty hand..
Don't ask..
Just beg ..
I will..
I want.
I am..
End.
 Jun 2019 Bek Blanchard
Habits
My footsteps whisper, lips touched,
Closed--not beside my thoughts--in unison.
Shattered--separated--alone.
Granted--contradicting a wish's

Purpose--meaningless to an empty
Vessel. Never deserted--discarded.
Unoccupied by the few words circulating.

As the body carries the weight,
Murmuring each piece continuously.
And the sounds begin an end.
A familiar path discovered--
The cycle continues.
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