PROMISE

Literally,
they are about to explode
to start another cycle
their gems so bright.

The birds are singing
again
still uncertain
is spring here for real?

Like a fragile bird
i walk my city’s streets
drinking everything in
still uncertain.

But spring is indeed
here
for real this time
here for us,

blind, ungrateful, lost,
undeserving humans
yet she gifts herself
to us.

Rebirth is all around
vibrating
within all beings
life recharged.

Eyes and lungs
full of her
intoxicated by her
skin awake with desire,

yet i won’t let go
of the long winter
that has gotten hold
of me.

My heart has grown
addicted
to his cold, deadly
beauty.

I crave the spring
her sweetness
her warmth
yet i won’t let him go.

All i want
is senselessness
cannot stand
such lush promise of beauty.

The bitter throbbing pain in me
only wishes
for the icy embrace of my lover
to put me to sleep.

Let me sleep
float
unconscious and dreamless
until i too can be reborn.

Just not yet.

The sweet promise of love
tasted of spring
of newborn leaves
so tender and bright.

And then
you chose to go on
without me
and just like that

spring died before it was even here.

Let me skip
a cycle
let me rest in winter
a little longer.

But nature
and my body
– which is nature too –
has her own plans.

My desire for spring
will melt
my pain
into a gloriously silly puddle.

Am i weeping
sobbing
wailing
in anticipation of this death?

To mourn
is to love
and to allow yourself
to be finally

reborn.