Dedicated to a lady who recently lost her lover
to that chronic disease called, Marriage
The violent storm will shed some rain, I hope,
once the fallen sprouts are out of its sight,
paving the ground to receive healthy seeds
of future from the trees and shrubs alike!
Countless specks of dust would fly all around
like the loosened hem of a twisting skirt,
while the strong wind wails through her mighty lyre
and thunderbolts roaring as beating drums!
Then the rain should wash the world clean as well
and a new life shall grow when the Spring arrives!
In between, during the wintry chill, I shall pine
for the fallen sprouts and those countless specks of dust
lost amid the turbulence of that novel birth
but I will sing if in the Spring I find myself alive!