rose
with soft petals
smelling sweet
cuts you with razor thorns
till you bleed

The same
sun
shining brightly
in the azure sky
burns you in no time

The same
tree
growing crimson, golden leaves
and canopies all around you
detaches and grows bare
in the cold autumn air

The same
lips
spreading moist, warm kisses
mouths off to you lies
the same
arms
holding you in the night
flail at you
the same
hand
cupping a pretty face
curls into a fist
and hits you like a ton of bricks

at the furthest
                        reach from me,

somewhere on the other side
                        of these lucid hills,

a box of sun has been
                        opened,

cut into manageable
                        pieces,

and given to all the young
                        dreaming denizens,

to blow with all
                         they have

inside their strong little
                         lungs--
                               ­     up,
                                          up,
                                                upward
into the sky,

circulating light
                          until it dawns as us all.

I was head down at my desk,
it came wafting, on a whispering
breeze through my open window
like a belated bouquet of spring
flowers, the refreshing long awaited
essence of life on our planet, gentle
new autumn rain upon thirsty earth,
plants and yellowing summer grass.

No other ethereal scent is like it.
The enticing fragrance of rebirth
and replenishment.

And what a fine, long needed
gift of nature this is.

In a small sailboat
I went to sea alone
and came back reborn.