Bittersweet
That's what you
Said to me

An epiphany
That's what you'll
Always be

In a laden sky, clouds are passing me by.
Wrapped up in passion, daylight decides.
There in the blue, a resilient hue.
Here on the ground, thoughts spin me around.

Green rises up to the heavens above.
Buds pucker out with nary a sound.
Laughter dissolves in the winds over time.
Memories are tossed in the space of my mind.

The leaves on the trees are waving at me.
The cost of this story is plain to see.
In the space of a moment, the earth turns me round.
Leaves me to wonder what else can be found.

Drifting through space with a smile on my face.
Dreaming of things I can still believe.
Walking the walk through the tales that we weave.
I'm treading the water in this silent pool.

I’m nobody’s fool but a fool I am.
The raging tempest blows me away.
The expanse of space is a welcome place.
The rhythm of days is that which remains.

Young little bud
with thorns they ache.
You bleed life
in order to grow.
I know it hurts
to keep yourself closed
when you just want to bloom
like the rest of them
and you can't cause pain
as much as you can feel it
when you remain wreathed in a shrub
and pose in a bright color
while everything happens inside of you.
You may think there's something wrong with you
because you don't get picked by people
but not all seeds sprout right after sowing
and you may not see the sunlight yet
but at least you can feel the morning dew
and the world has yet to see you
and you have all the world to see
so take your time
and keep your stem long
for even the seasons will wait
however long it takes
for a young little bud to unfold.

I went to the fridge
to get my beer
but oh dear
I spilled my beer
all over me
Mu sweet Bud
your odor I reek
So kiss my cheek
Get drunk with me.

I cannot sleep, for I'm nursing a sheep,
A coughing, sputtering lamb;
I cannot rest, for I'm doing my best
My medicinal best that I can.

Mama was young, and she knew no demands
For how to care, it was told;
Mama was scared, and she left them to stand
And to freeze in the shuddering cold.

Baby girl died, it was frosty and bleak
Under that black food bowl she lay;
Baby girl died, she was so unique
The size of a child's shoe, she bayed.

So here I sit nursing a poor coughing lamb,
Here I sit nursing a sick deathly man,
Here I sit hoping-just maybe- he'll live,
Futilely promising my life for his.

Where it was supposed to be,
It isn't.
Not in my heart, not on my sleeves
Not on my skin, not in my speech
Not here.
But here. Inside me:
A shy, scared, very scared bud
Its petals waiting, waiting since ever
But it won't dare open
For the fear of what has happened.
It doesn't want to be trampled
But does it know--?
Even to be trampled
You have first got to open.

young  emotion
enclosed
in an inexperienced heart
enclosed
in a tired heart
with a  heartbeat
forever young
as a bud
forgot
hidden
in
a withered
fruit