Sometimes, it seemsThere were no blood coursing your veins,
No birds’ chant could remind you
The joy and surprise of being alive,
The pond water were deadly still.
The sun wore a forced smile
And its light had no heat,
Numbing you to a deeper and deeper mist.
Surrounded by the green hills,
You mocked their showiness.
Were you blue,
Or brewing blues out of the blue?
The sea was ebbing to the lowest.
You had no choice.
Don’t try to reason.
Just remain there
And cherish the moment of your lifelessness.
Let the summer to the winter sink
Its bareness is the herald of the spring.
Afternoon, November 24, 2010