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Poem

Why can't spring
last as a deep feeling,
and remain joyful and eternal?

What makes this season so vital and wonderful...
adorning our earth with flowers so delightful?
Who is so dubious to disclaim it? 

True faith admits no doubt...
will the heart?
  
My spring was too brief,
only desire outlived it...
floating as a leaf:
to taste death on barren ground:
such is the fate of all leaves!
 
Perhaps nostalgia is deeper than regret,
making me yearn with useless tears
and in doing so sorrow deepens...
without realizing I have no control over it.

Return spring with a new child in me,
making me run towards the sunflowers' filelds
increasing my chances to find serenity...
return spring, but don't be short and cheerless.

Years age the body, not the spirit...
as seasons remind us how fragile we are:
living one life and returning dust as before...
without voice, flesh, blood and thought.

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