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K Balachandran May 2017
I was a forest of wild desires
love engulfed it as wild fire,
lit by a spark from your eyes.
Never did I want to put it out,as
burning for what you gave me
was pure bliss,I realize.
The embers are alive, giving warmth
while the forest of desires regenerates
at a speed I  haven't known ever before.
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 leaf 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 once again but will
Reappear in winter's own stark beauty
Though it may be cold and gray.
Then spring will come.

          Spring will come!!!
©2017 Daniel Irwin Tucker

NOT just another poem about spring.
Brent Kincaid Mar 2017
The leaves first healthy and green
Reaching up to eternity
Then turning red, then gold and rust
And falling, translucent in their glory
Only their veins showing, organic lace;
The tree's honest history.
Only their slightly different shape
Remains a mystery,
Remembered by those who might've seen
As if in a fog, mistily
With just the few days of it's life
Lived blissfully.

These are the children, the ephemera
Of our trees
Giving, sharing, growing, expanding
Repeating generously
To populate our world with breath
Suffering death constantly
Being reborn silently to us;
Sentinels of majesty.

These are benefactors of life
For all of you and me
Casting themselves up from dirt
To our reality
Whether we believe it or know it.
They give voicelessly,
And that is what it means to be a tree
If you are leaves set free.
The hair on my head has never been touched by you.
Every couple years we gain new cells and skin too.
One day I will never have been touched by you.
One day you won't know me.
I'll only be a distant memory.
Let me fade into the background of your mind.
You don't need me in your life.
Please move on.
I'm not the girl you used to know,
I'm a woman now.
Full grown.
You were always full of lies.
Your butterflies have morphed into nothing more but flies.
I wish you would leave.
My eyes are dry can't you see?
When I see your face or the back of your head,
My heart starts to pound.
Not in love or excitement.
But in a nervous, anxious, fright.
Your memories are lost in the depths of my mind.
But when anyone mentions your name...
They crash forward like a tidal wave.
All the laughs and smiles...
All the lies and cries...
The hurt.
The betrayal.
One day...
You will have never touched me.
Let me fade in your memories.
I'm new.
Reborn.
I'm not the girl you used to know.
I'm a woman now.
Full grown.
No longer naive.
Or filled with silly dreams.
My hair you once touched...
Long chopped off.
And in another couple of years,
My cells and skin will be new too.
One day I will have a body you have never touched.
So let me fade in your memory.
I'm not the girl you used to know.
I'm a woman now.
Full grown.
SassyJ Mar 2016
In bareness life sheds
Melting our essences
To fear our termination
In caskets it all ends

In excess life mends
A regeneration read
Generations transpired
For eons we existed

In neutral life tends
Unscripted to rest
Reassessed to subsist
Repressed to matter

Thou shan't fear death
Embraceth thine destiny
Immortalised in shrines
Till the universe climaxes
Name of an Orchestral Music Piece (Joshua Ingram)
Thanks for the privilege.
K Balachandran Jun 2014
When we met again,
the flower was wilting and sad
"I don't want to die, so early"she said
"Heal me, I've seen you doing it before"
"I love you" I whispered gently to her
and waited, saw her face once again
turning radiant, in an instance
in love she believes, listens to its prompts
healing power of love, is evident yet again.
Lauramihaela May 2014
We are all flowers in this world,
Merely here to decorate the earth
Before God decides to pick us
For his bouquet of humanity.
Lauramihaela May 2014
Sometimes I feel
Like I'm fading,
Disappearing into an ocean
Of people like the
Translucent moon
In the daytime sky.
Lauramihaela May 2014
There is nothing like
A crisp morning
To remind you
That even after
The darkest night,
There is rebirth.

— The End —