"S_weet shining spring, season of birth,
P_erfusing life and scent to plants,
R_estoring joy and mirth on earth,
I_ relish your whispering chant
N_ear rivers, forests and gardens
G_rown with flowers that hearts soften." by author
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The Soothing Spirit of Spring
The winter frost retreats before the sun
As greens awake from the slumbering earth
To tell the story of spring now begun.
Thousands of buds prepare their silent birth
With petals unfolding to catch the light,
Pervading the air with shimmers of mirth.
Robins hum their song to dispel the night,
Rivers rumble with water clear and deep,
With all the world immersed in mirthful plight.
Life awakens from its prolonged dark sleep
To plant the seeds of all we hope to find,
Promising sunshine that summer will keep.
The soothing spirit of spring fills the mind
With ripples of gentle delight entwined.
While morning peeps
Daisies alight
Decked in laced white
Field bursts with hues
More blooms unfold --
Plums, clives so gold
And daybreak glints,
Flushed with soft sun
Kids humming...' fun'
Rows of florets
Flaunt their poses
Like whirled roses!
Baskets carry
Long- stemmed bouquets
Oh, lovely sprays
Buds of April ,
Glowing with charm
Their brushed tints...warm!
The buds of May are here,
columbines and roses burst out in fetching gold,
full of cheer.
Pretty flowers—
Hummingbirds stop by to behold
for hours.
Sunkissed
petals unfold—
Bliss!
The buds of May are here,
hummingbirds stop by to behold.
Bliss!
Light kissed the buds of mallow
And welcomed an autumn bloom;
The cups that'd lain so shallow
Sprung forth and blushed anew.
It meandered as flowing water
Over the peaks one by one -
Spilling into a tankard
And joining more in tandem.
Every sparkle on the mounds
That captures my curious eye
Is one of some polished diamonds
For me to gaze at and sigh.
Don't think; when the wailing valley wind on the ridge drives the shivering leaflets from the trees,
think that all is not over: the rainy season will return
you will see the buds, leaves, and flowers.
Don't think; when the earth grows cold and closed,
and the weary birds above mourn,
don't think that all is over: God still lives
Praise and sunshine will return.
Don't think; when your heart is empty and gloomy,
when your precious hope grows cold and gloomy,
don't think that all is over: God has mercy on you.
He will wipe away every tear.
Don't think; crying for just one night won't last.
God will eventually bring morning.
in the cold buds of every rainy season,
sleep tomorrow's flower buds.
spring season.
brings blooming buds, warmer warmth, strengthening sunrise -to -sunset,
subsequently snowy season,
sooner than summer.
lilac buds
burst on the scene
sense overwhelm
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Haibun
In the forest dark and deep, naked trees stripped by winters
icy grip. Bony fingers point skyward toward their tormentor.
Branches creak like old arthritic joints with every breath of breeze.
Life blood is stored snugly in their snow- covered feet waiting for the first
ray of sunshine of the new season to melt the white blanket.
brown trees waken, sweet
sap flows through the hollow trunk
brings life to the buds
As days grow longer, buds open themselves to life giving sun.
Slowly, the old joints begin to loosen as the branches turn green
with life. Green sprouts grow to maturity and the tree is clothed.
The cycle is begun again. Life to death and back to life.
how many taste buds do we have? Asked the tongue.
Thousands she told her, discerning them looks like fun!
First I would organize them into the right kitchen bin.
Sweet, salty, sour, or bitter, placing them in the right tin.
Taste buds carry messages to the eating seating brain.
Your sense of smell helps you determine taste in the rain.
white little seedlings
blooming on tree branches
sign of springs coming
buds begin to leaf
begging for bucolic growth ~
flora in full dress
(May Full Moon – Cree)
Upon wings of dream and time, love buds unseen,
Not every fate quickens it in the ephemeral dance of form and hour,
It, the profound love, the one that forges destiny in souls, is like a spell,
Flying over stereotypes, over the labyrinth of the Matrix that confines dreams.
How rare it is in the fabric of days to find that connection of spirits,
That meet across vast distances in an embrace closer than bustling proximities.
Each is the other's sanctuary, and life progresses in parallel, in that unseen space,
And each carves their presence into a corner of the heart, where no altar or certainty exists.
The deep pulse of the soul is felt at a mere calling of the name,
And the sensation resonates, an echo of fulfillment that transcends the borders of consciousness.
To recognize, and to be recognized... to share the same unhampered language.
To resonate in unison... is to tune spirits in a harmony that transcends the octave.
To choose to step beyond the need for possession, for a subtle being, pure in Love.
Stoners of the world unite
Buds in hand let's sing a song
Someone please give me a light
I just filled my beaker bong
The tastes of spring jostle
my taste buds to awaken.
To stand up,
Get poked out on tongue.
Then to flick and lick, from the very tip of my tongue.
Savoring the tantalizing, titillating, tit-bit tastes,
that spring in season, rendered in bounteous bounty harvests,
from berries, fruits, peas, herbs, beans and juices.
Premeditated, contemplated and jazz-jammed
to razzmatazz improvisations and mantras
by scents wafting up the nose.
The five senses,
five essences,
five heavenly scents,
dance and jive
rejoicing in the tantalizing
quintuplet of
quintessential tastes,
that emerge in spring:
sweet, sour, salty,
bitter,
umami.
On a dark dreary spring day
where the buds
cling to barren trees
with no spring rain
the process is slowed
tiny hints of green
peak out from buds
a new season of rebirth
as winter mould disappears
flowers begin to peak
from their long rest
wanting the sun's warmth
to push forward growth
each year brings changes
the dryness or wetness
will determine the outcome
of what is to come.
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