Never now exhausted,
Love has blossomed forward,
Through an extreme of seasons,
One by one went by.
Spring’s within the Autumn,
Falls are once more roaring,
And those blossom-oils are pouring
Under pastel-orange skies.
Let’s go for a hairpin drive
To where your love resides,
Somewhere secluded in time
Beyond the woodland outside.
I’d rather a life in near-solitude!
For Nature is all-celebrating
While the cities are just enervating,
But only, love, in solitude with you.
Time heals, said my master.
Yes, I nodded, and it also
Pushes and bites
And kicks at my arms
And my bruised legs.
My master looked away.
She gave me a spade
To dig holes for my grief,
Where blossom fell briefly,
Though not today.
There’s a blossom lasting longer
Somewhere in my heart;
Secure, do you belong there?
They said it won’t restart.
It may have fallen from a tree
When cherry blossom’s over;
Petalled seasons aren’t for me,
Feeling better by October.
These sensations take me back
Without compelling reason;
Rose oil scent, where pink is black,
My heart committed treason.
Let’s land you in Taipei,
I’ll gladly meet you there;
The monsoon strips will throng
With blossom, pink and bare.
Let’s bring you to Taipei
By Bangkok, Three Gorges rested;
Hold my hands, it won’t be long,
Harbour floodgates daily tested.
Let’s see the Taiwanese fireworks,
I know exquisite spots;
You’ll contemplate the high-rise perks
Of living with your polyglot.
Extremely pressured scented
Containers may burst.
I unclasped curtains,
And whole absurd worlds returned
Just as they were left.
Because the world does
Not give up, blossom still falls
The orchid still fails.
Love flushed us out,
Inevitably, like leaves
Or blossom falling.
Drizzle days, this cage
Is rusty, of aged metal.
Make me next petalled.
Duck dreams in stomachs;
We could have built such systems
For love, and kindness.
But we built instead
I’ll sit beneath blooms
Of cherry blossom;
You are never forgotten,
We kissed through a wall
Where there was nothing at all,
But blossom, and love.
This fulfilled beauty, this natural love,
Born neither below nor pitched from above,
Our touch brewed crows to bonding froths of doves,
From dandelion roots bloom bright blue foxgloves.
We find more time as our figures entwine
Than decades slipped through abysses divine,
Love’s wide as the soul of a Shinto shrine,
Twenty-two heavens had heralds align.
Fourth walls flood open, diurnal delight,
Liberating souls imprisoned by night,
Fifth columnists diaspored out of sight,
We are free to gauge the depths and the height.
Suddenly lost, fragile heart-fever field,
Seeds on a breeze, bronzed a sword and a shield.