The Cherry Blossom

The cherry blossom’s time was brief,
and so our pain, and so our grief;
but yet remains the trunk and leaf,
the spreading roots secure beneath.

So scornful of all outward show,
deeply down our way may go;
flower or wither, yes or no,
sweetly sweet the undertow

that draws us like a corpse to dirt,
underground to hug our hurt;
let beetles’ claws unpick the shirt,
touch the root, with maggots flirt.

For here there lies the source of things;
unseen, eternal springs;
beyond the root the Root that brings
our frail, our surface blossomings.

The cherry blossom’s time was brief,
and so our pain, and so our grief;
but yet remains the trunk and leaf,
the spreading roots to our relief.

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s