Days pass in a timely fashion:
Slowly by daytime intervals, fast in a scale of seasons.
Moments happening without hurry,
quickly turning into memories –
with the quick approach of a future.
The world spins tilted,
in sections of dry lands, wet clouds, white blankets, misty fog.
Our minds are open, and our hearts are given.
Full view of and in full view:
sealed memories,
bottled ocean water,
brilliant minds,
endless miracles –
in a year of given time.
There are summers missed,
in a Secret Garden hidden under one tree:
barefoot dancing in our summer dresses,
talking of big dreams with bright eyes,
feeling like moments were timeless,
and nothing could change.
Yet leaves fall,
slanted, never straight;
unless, “it’s the way you look at it.”
A view of covered backs,
packed with essentials:
pencils, pens, paper,
dried flowers, devious secrets,
strengths, weaknesses –
of yours and mine.
to hibernate
and dream,
of a season
left behind.
To what we know best:
there is time,
a countdown,
an event,
a time,
to wait for,
to tell us:
when to return back – and start again.
- Emilyn Nguyen
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 11:52 PM UTC
Days pass in a timely fashion:
Slowly by daytime intervals, fast in a scale of seasons.
Moments happening without hurry,
quickly turning into memories –
with the quick approach of a future.
The world spins tilted,
in sections of dry lands, wet clouds, white blankets, misty fog.
Our minds are open, and our hearts are given.
Full view of and in full view:
sealed memories,
bottled ocean water,
brilliant minds,
endless miracles –
in a year of given time.
There are summers missed,
in a Secret Garden hidden under one tree:
barefoot dancing in our summer dresses,
talking of big dreams with bright eyes,
feeling like moments were timeless,
and nothing could change.
Yet leaves fall,
slanted, never straight;
unless, “it’s the way you look at it.”
A view of covered backs,
packed with essentials:
pencils, pens, paper,
dried flowers, devious secrets,
strengths, weaknesses –
of yours and mine.
to hibernate
and dream,
of a season
left behind.
To what we know best:
there is time,
a countdown,
an event,
a time,
to wait for,
to tell us:
when to return back – and start again.
- Emilyn Nguyen
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