The Anemones


Old friends,

tireless in the passing of life,

who have preserved the smile of our childhood

which was so evanescent in time,

but lives for ever as a memory

of what could have been,

but the shadows didn’t let it wholly blossom.


As soon as the frost of winter began

to die in the clearings and on the hillsides,

the anemones like a people of light come out again,

to remind us of that youth, hidden

within the radiance of the soul which waits

for our heart to see the messages of beauty

which were not daunted in time.

A continuing message,

nestling in the embrace of the seasons,

but the gaze that admired only itself

has left aside to stand, forgotten,

because it was not its own offspring.


But the lightning flashes of life

whose abundance has made universes

small and great

in unexplored rivers of fire

pass through the beings and the senses

will not fit into the houses of darkness,

they will break the bonds of oblivion

and the anemones will be lost

for another world,

where spring will be eternal.


(Photograph by wikimedia commons)