By the river we sat,

the fish squirm below.

They remind me of speckled dirt.

A stone flies, spattering  

rings of a tree which show  

our life over the short years.



The insects that sing and thrive during a  

Summer day relish in a sun

so warm it brightens our skin

turning it deep red as the maple leaves

when autumn shows its cold shoulder.  



The color slowly hurts as the harsh winds

hit our cheeks with a slap

full of rules and stricter discipline.  

Distance is not the only thing

that grows between us.



Snow drops appear slowly, yet

I sit waiting by the river for you.

Chills form, I stand as still as the snow.

Leaving footprints of longing, I backtrack

every time I spot a piece of fresh grass

sprouting out of the blank blanket;

A new-born friend, that is very weak.

Searching for a replacement as time grows.



The river thaws, Winter ends, bringing  

Spring in poor conditions.  

Mud has encased the entirety of the water.

So thick, it is a disturbing smell, or it could

be you I think of so fondly.

Your booming voice has never been so clear;

Bringing a rain so soft,

it makes me tremble under its pressure

as you shed all my tears.

vernal equinox
pollen’s proliferation
spring’s rebirth affirmed

busy bees buzzing
beautiful birds building nests
winters gloom erased

seeds take root
blossoms bloom-birdsong elates
spring nears its end

summer solstice
verdant landscape-sandy beach
families frolic

summer showers
heat and humidity reign
sunlight lingers

temperatures lag
cheerful chirping of crickets
summer’s last gasp

autumnal equinox
turning leaves-migrating birds
autumn morning chill

leaf peeping pastime
harvest cornucopia
nighttime lingers

fall’s first killing frost
season of melancholy
cold of winter near

winter solstice
bare trees and hibernation
don’t risk bleeding lips

gardens lie fallow
mice attempting entry
long, cold nights

snowfall melts
winter gives way to spring
first mosquito bite

By the skies of humanity
The endless waves of shame
The concept of artificial sanity
Am I playing only a game?

Straying while staying in the stage with so much stakes on my tray while I train on standing straight.

Breathing in my dreams while dreaming about breathing.

Shuddering at the promising sun cooling my thoughts, warming my body on the idea of a cold winter.

The ashes of my sins sweeping swiftly like world's first snow. I close my eyes, for darkness is the only world I would ever see.

Opened at last, my tired eyes witnessed the elegant cherry blossom before me.
Strong and proud the flowerpetals fall. Along with my sins, heaps of ashes into a mountain of grey and pink.

By the mother of my generation.
I shall stand by your side.
The epidemic of our nation,
Will hit us all worldwide.

There is no war fiercer, than a war with ourselves.

My hair grows
Like patience
  drying
Baby's-breath
against my will
  behind my back
Past
yesterday's destiny
  Distanced
jungle long
in time for every
  sunrise and sunset.

The beauty of Spring gave rise to
Summer, who’s warmth and gentle days
brought us to....

No.
…how did it go?

Halcyon days of May blossom into
Summer daze, lazing into bounteous Fall.
Curling Autumn leaves shiver
on crisp....

Agh!
Wrong, wrong, wrong!

Spring sprung flowers and sun and rain.
And then, fledged,
bounded into Summer’s
heat, picnics, fun, and games.
Summer drifting, wanders into Fall.
Best known for harvest, yellow buses, colored leaves, and all.
Then Winter took
that which we knew, and covered it in silence quilting snow
and said,”Wait till Spring.”

Who knows.
Could be, that's the way it went?

But, likely, more like this:

The seasons passed.
Passed with no regard at all.
Until that day we placed a marble marker in chilling rain;
and talked about Springs, and Summers, and the Winters of life,
and how we hide the pain,
and how we’ll never be the same,
and we never are the same.

Did the self-encasing ice
Ever melt enough
To reach beyond,
So you
Stretch your tired fingers
In the cool spring air,
And flicker your eyes open
To the mid-morning mist,

Breathed in just shallow enough
To soothe that rain-like pit-pattering heart
And coo the aches of chilly soul,
Hushing the wisps of winter wither
Beyond the mind and somewhere thither.

Dew drops shimmering in the crisp morning air
the sun lighting it's path through whispered truths
trickling on the beauty of rebirthed singing flowers.

Birds in a flutter of ecstasy crazed aroma fly's in pairs
singing the song of love in tandem.
Nests build from a future bright with flightlings
breathing in the essence of new lives in thought.

Flowers gleefully reaching towards the heavens
begging to be adorned with the hope of the awakened sun.

Life in a magical array of sounds and colors tickles the senses
of my skin.
living feeling rushes to every part of my quivering soul
with the scent of a new dawn dawns upon me.

The beginning of life a new rises from the cold gladly forgotten.

Spring the beginning of life anew.