Sonnet XIII: Falling

Extraordinary blooms, ye mustn’t fall,
Although bereft of you I plaintive sing;
Complete, your gifted dedication all–

For nothing–your renunciation; bring…
To me, my restlessness, one restful gift,
Another consequential tear, one ring…

Of truthful blossoming, cascading swift,
Of falling and of blowing, gently brave;
Traversing mountains, even oceans, lift–

Beyond torrential, gentle blossoms gave;
Beyond such starfields, drop and bloom perfect;
Away… beyond temporal counting, save…
Our loneliness, do each to us affect;
As petal-drops, alone, our days reflect.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

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Intro 1: If Only

Could you see in Spring
what I have seen in Summer,
you might have chosen

fulfilment in life
in Fall to better yourself.
And then, looking back,

you might even see
how desolate in Winter
your life might have been,

if you had never
made that fateful decision
on one Spring morning.

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