back to innocence

perhaps what unfolds from this stem
is innocence impatient for spring,
petals that brave winter and with
its tongue tastes coldest rain born
from sullen typhoons barging through
coastal doors, unexpectedly, unwelcome
though there is much need for moisture,
much need for rain… the unnecessary
baptism blesses me, revives me, reminds
me that even if there is a deluge ahead,
in time, the water shall subside and all
grass shall return to its former state,
even flowers restored to my mind’s garden

loneliness

i wish it were your heart

to decipher

distant hieroglyphs disinterred

from tombs of ordinary days,

weeks and months—

to wake you from dormancy;

the stillness of winter should

hear relief in spring,

her cacacophony inside each

rose blooms and utters

ooohs and aaahs beyond their

morning whispers; i listen

for your heartbeat in the air

and translate them into rhythm

whose sound will make sense

of doubt, strengthen what

intuition to enlighten these

solitary nights, this cavern

of my own loneliness

spring

even behind this wall

no tomorrow hides

nor beauty conceal

when your hand recoils

without daring much as

to hold with zeal; how

eager is night to blanket

all this, forget the past

and open before sunset

something new and

untouched as this flower

first encounters spring

© mr gahon 3/21/15