Dear Spring,
In a desert of vermillion waves
Hold my wounds where they hurt most
Plant seeds in the cracks of my bones
And with nettle washing away the sins of my past’s ghost,
Plant seeds of hope, of creed, and cuddle me in hurricanes
As the wind brushes my hair, trapped in the perpetual games
Of life and death, respawn just to end
Leave the past in the frozen gaze of the spring
While we weep,
The loss of winter slumber, of the hearth heat.
And if we look long enough at the stars we’ll see
The stories sky tells each night, painting cosmic reverie
Before our eyes, and Artemis runs again, goddess of the moon,
Sprinkling grains of need,
Taking a leap
Toward the unbound
Blackness of the sky, her bow playing the meadow’s string, attuned
To the bees’ murmur.
Listen, she whispers all that is allowed,
And hearing her I vowed,
And signed an oath in pure virgin blood,
The blood of the trees’ sap,
Calling on Persephone to wake up
From the underworld, return from Hades, and grace us all.
So, she heard us and started a flood,
For several days rain might abound
But the tulips yet again spring forth,
Calling on the sparrows, as they sing aloud
Running from Artemis’ arrows chasing down the cold,
And in the sunlit meadow, Kittens stretch on,
Yawning and frowning, to their mothers they run meowing,
Mountains echo
The revving sound of the engines, as they speed to
Vibrant green patches bursting from snow
And I’m getting to know how a mind like Poe’s
Would bid his hello
To the ravens of Nevermore,
To the midday sun’s halo,
Although his mind was in a casket held,
Captured by eternal autumnal chains
Frozen, abed, the work of a winter’s morgue explains,
Detective labor on duty, fighting existential pains.
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