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)