I have laid in the tall grass
and let the sweet smell of its lush
green blades,
fill my lungs and head,
until giddy,
and light headed.

I lay back and become enveloped
in and ecstasy of
heady tranquilly.

My fingers traced the stems
sensually
liken to a lovers fingers
over silken skin

Papus are freed and fill the air
drifting on the breeze
carrying my dreams and wished
to my love

"Ummm... I like you," she said,
her voice a trembling whisper.
Beads of sweat glistened on her brow,
breath uneven,
her heart pounding like fragile thunder.

She stood in quiet stillness,
anticipation pooling in her eyes,
her gaze fixed,

And then, I felt it—
a rush of warmth blooming in my chest,
nerves tangling with wonder,
as if her words were rewriting my very being.

For a moment, time stood still—
and that was when
I felt spring in the winter.

my friend came by the other day
as a leaf in the wind he has blown
from street to street
            town to town.

a wanderer he may be
but not at heart--
he longs to be attached
to a tree
                               any tree.

in spring and summer the leaves
     are green and
                              attached.

summer slowly dries them out as the tree
                    prepares for winter.

my friend the dry brown leaf
blows in his perpetual autumn.

we all grow in our own time
and season:

winter dormancy

         spring regeneration

                   summer fulfillment

                             fall  preparing for the
                                                  
          ­  inevitable
season of death.

these seasons of the soul
are the very essence of our existence.

     they teach us

        temper us

        fulfill us.

but there are those who do not see
the purpose of the seasons.
to them winter means only

                             cold

                                       snow

                       desolation.          

spring means only

                    rain

                mud

                            flooding.

summer means

                             beauty to mock
                                the heart in
                                     winter.

i trust in the wisdom of the seasons.
nature teaches us lessons in her cycles.

let the  l
                e
               a
                  f
fall to the ground.
let it rot into cold

    stark

                        winter

           desolation.

spring will come.

bleak gray will become bright colours
                  of spring.

the beauty will fade again but will
reappear in winter's own stark beauty
though it may be cold and gray.
then spring will come.

          spring-will-come !!!

A naked branch awaits the spring
    when vernal vigour will awake
      the cuckoos calling on the wing.
A naked branch awaits the spring
    like distant soundless whispering
      around the icy listening lake.
A naked branch awaits the spring,
  when vernal vigour will awake.

Maybe I don’t need the sunlight to blind me,
but gentle sunshine to bathe me
with its life sustaining light,
engulfing me in its warmth
and making me feel at home;
at peace; finally.
The best days at Gladstone park
were not the summer days or even fall,
they were springtime days
with a promise of a full bloom
come the summer.
Summer never came
and the just about blooming flowers
started to wilt until they died in my heart.
Maybe summer is not my season,
it is too hot and scorching towards my soul.
Maybe it burns so brilliantly
that it erodes my life away
and I’m lost in a sea of light that is so bright
that it’s hard to make out night from day.
Maybe I need to stay in the promise of the bloom,
for young love and my groom..
maybe I need to be not where I want to be
in a place or time,
but with a person who is mine…
who calls me “mine” and claims me.
Maybe I can enjoy the park again when it’s spring,
maybe I can go to a different park
that reminds me of him..
there is a park that I have been to,
where ducks quack in the pond
and the fish swim too..
it felt like spring,
it was spring..
even when the chilly breeze
grazed my skin,
his touch kept me warm amidst our spring.
Maybe I need to be not where I am,
but where the spring is
as the spring is the perfect weather
for my hair and skin too,
it is just cold but sunny but windy
and there’s green leaves too.
Everything is better with a promise of spring
and when the spring springs onto us,
it is always a beautiful day too..
like a daydream, too unreal
but realistically within reach too.
I just need to be,
where the flowers bloom for spring
and my heart sings too.