I see you with your green stockings
and the long red hair
she remembered, leaving it too late
you know her worst secret,
and the saddest part is that it
no longer matters
days run from horizon to horizon
time spins delicate threads between two hands
in the photo, the students danced and played for the camera
one heartbreakingly beautiful was you
Where does the lost go when the new morning comes
the blossom of Sakura that fell as confetti
in the springs ceremony
the movements of the lambs body as it frolics in joy on flowered turf
where do our words fade to when we become silent
as love came to inhabit emptiness
where does the sparkling water flow to, we left upstream
over sunny pebbles
as we drifted to the sea
Thanks H -Sakura🌸
What happened to us?
How did warm incandescence
turn callously incendiary?
Did we ignite too quickly,
burn too fiercely,
only to die out prematurely?
Where did the ash from our bodies go,
if not carried away by the winds of time?
There's an interplay
of impurities and intellect -
that can infect
and sap a life...
the sinner -
both are dreams.
I do not speak through saints.
I do not speak through sinners.
through flawed people.
Some have more than their fair share
Others may be spotted
or other impurities.
So some people,
stumbling on my messengers,
spotting the spots of my messengers,
fasten themselves on the spots,
turning away from the beauty
as though it were a species of fraudulence.
Spotting the Defect -
how the interplay of fear and intellect
finds its justification...
It can downplay
the beauty - or imagine
it isn't there
and turn away...
It finds the justification:
the dark spots of my messengers
and steering clear
of the Ground.