Spring morning
of a sweet blessed day.
Birds chirping
in this lovely month of May.
Sun rising
as blue birds sing.
Light shining
what delight this may bring.
I like
to lie
In a park
At dark
In spring.
When the
Wind dies,
And everything
Is just so.
Just clear
as glass
and earthed
On grass
Below
I gaze
at stars
At last
While
crickets
Sing.
Singing of wonders
Sweet chorus, stay by my side
Triumph in the spring
Spring comes
as grasses leap forth
and emerald hues are added to the landscape,
with wildflowers peeking up from the
dewy roadside.
The world smells
fresh like worms and earth,
while birds drift down to finish last year’s
seeds.
Yellow rain boots hop
out of shelves and into the puddles,
while mud gathers and plays in the road,
gurgling with mirth at passers by.
The badminton net is resurrected,
regally looming over the lawn,
as the swings squeak joyfully in the breeze.
The fireplace gives a sooty yawn
and falls to sleep.
And in the kitchen, fiddleheads unfurl upon
a hot pan
as the old and sour scent of the earth
settles upon our plates,
spring steps lightly
onto the world.
~Yuka Oiwa
May 6, 2008
Turning a new page
Masters of the universe
Start a new chapter
i was planted, nurtured
and gorged myself
on my mother's love, some sort of fertilizer
i grew, where and when
they thought i wouldn't
and i thrived
i bloomed
and i was beautiful
you cannot touch me
i wilted,
i fell down, but my daughters know what to do
but i will come back
my thorns will be remembered
alongside my beauty
but that doesn't matter anymore
you can cut my flowers down,
but you cannot keep spring
from coming
Tulip in a Grove, alone in Spring,
Like young girl's hearts, it's a fragile thing.
Too bright for its dark abode:
A brilliant corner on a lonely road.
Petals, like shields, rise up as guards.
For all that lives wants to part
The Tulip from its Spring.
But look, there, in the greenish gloom,
There are other colors in this furtive room.
In twos or threes, they stand apart,
Each guarding their own and another’s heart.
Bright heads like maiden’s reticent mane.
Each shines for the other’s gain.
For Summer comes too soon.
- 2011
The sun lifts its head
To open blue skies,
New promise, new life
New twinkling eyes.
But not mine.
Numbness crawls down my spine.
Children, dogs and footballs
Bounce upon the grass,
Breathe in the fragrant air
Spring is here at last.
But there's no spring in my step.
An emptiness sinks to my depths.
Daffodils and daisies
Catch blossoms on the breeze
Bright sunlight beams
Through green, lush trees
But I'm down on my knees
Screaming, please.
Close the curtains,
stay down, hide.
Wear black to reflect
What's curdling my insides
Direct me, distract me
from this crippling grief
This season's prescription
Gives no fresh relief.
Something to say... oak
wind sending my head spinning
out through the window
As the sun chases the moon in perpetual cycle,
As the ocean currents swirl in endless uncertainty;
As the winds come and go to wherever it pleases,
So does the heart changes its color constantly.
The young heart opens up like a flower in spring,
Gentle yet cautious, budding yet reluctant;
Love nourishes it like mild rays of sunlight,
Like an innocent child, forgiving and repentant.
As the days go by the heart slowly blooms,
Nurtured by love and care, by trust and faith;
With emotions growing in each passing moment,
The heart takes you deeper in its natural state.
When summer arrives, the heart becomes passionate,
As torrid as the scorching sun, driven and consumed;
Like a flower standing gloriously, beautiful and lively,
With all doubts and hindrances, all barriers removed.
Love is at its strongest yet most vulnerable phase,
Raging like a dangerous storm on a path of destruction;
When passion can inflict a wound with one wrong step,
Everything starts to fall, piece by piece into abolition.
Like the leaves of a tree shedding in autumn,
Hands slowly slipping, Love barely breathing;
The heart rapidly descending into paranoia,
shrouded in fear, in weakness and uneasy feelings.
Then the storms come to topple what was left,
The heart in a whirlwind of emotional disarray;
Which is why men has also called the autumn ‘fall’,
because love falls, turning to animosity, hate and dismay.
Winter knocks at the doors of a cold heart,
Where it is on its deepest, most isolated chapter;
Where bitterness stings the like an unbearable venom,
the heart frozen in pain, growing ruthless and harder.
As the darkness creeps in, seeping through the walls,
The cold air suffocating, the temperature intolerable;
The snow growing thicker in the absence of warmth,
The heart stands still, its walls becoming unbreakable.
But amidst all the angst and the sorrows one bears,
The seeds of hope will never leave the young heart;
It wouldn’t abandon those who love purely and faithfully,
And it opens the heart once again for a brand new start.
Like the seasons of the year the heart needs change,
From passion to bitterness, from uncertainty to trust;
Like a rose in the middle of a garden, it needs to endure,
The changing phases of life, to learn and adapt, it must.
One day, the young heart will learn and mature,
Stronger and more passionate than it ever will be;
Then and there, God will grant it the love it yearns,
For it has learned to sacrifice and love unconditionally.
These are the different facets of the human heart,
Like the changing tides, it shifts and morphs suddenly;
It is wild, full of life and hope, like an untamed lion,
And it loves fiercely, unpredictable, and passionately.
Love naturally comes in a flash of light,
so one must learn to endure its sudden impact;
That's why the heart must change repeatedly,
To prepare it for uncertainty, not to be pushed back.