Take the old rusty train
Across the lazy, green meadow
Lush and green from the gentle rain
And spot the tree— an aged great, willow
Whose leaves whisper softly about the old days.
When a child ran across it towards the lake
And with a shout of glee, of pure ecstasy
The child—a wee thing of six— took a great
Big jump and dived into still aquamarine—
The colour in father's irises, the shade on mother's fingenails.
The same colour in her eyes, the shade
Of blue on the flowers she grips,
Teardrops running down her skin as she gapes
At the tomb of stone engraved with
Letters that spell out her father's name.
The sound of music from past days
Is carried through the wind
Still cool from winter's lingering embrace
It bites her cheeks; nips gently at her skin
But the spring sun chases the chill away.
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The spring sun has come to stay
Chasing the chill, rousing the birds and beasts
Out of deep slumber—urging them to wake.
Reminding flowers to bloom as the trees
Sprout their leafy green, foliage.
Spring has come to stay!
Rousing birds, beasts and slumbering trees
Awake! Chasing the chill of winter away!
Winter grudgingly retreats
But not the pain—that aspects of winter remains.
The little girl from those white, snowy days
Is now thrice her former age.
A beauty to behold, father's blue eyes and mother's dark skin;
Mother's music and father's knowledge
Embodied within admixed
With sorrow, with pain and grief.
Spring has come to stay!
Chasing away winter's lingering chill!
But not the pain of those cold days.
For how long will she grief?
When adulthood finally takes it rightful place?
For how long will she cry?
When adulthood has drifted by?
And old age washes in?
With mistakes and regrets and unfulfilled dreams?
Who knows?
Life is nigh!
The days drag on
But spring nights are short ...
©Loi
