I

 

there we were and it was

just as it is on a midwinter's day,

when the sun breaks through

thick layers of grey and dust

dances in rays of yellow light.

 

then- the air smells as the bright green buds

of springtime do, life

breaks through the dark brown soil

and patches of broken white.

 

there we were- there in that moment,

isolated in time and yet

most beautifully detached from time.

 

drifting away, drowning

in the sweet illusion of eternity

 

II

 

sun-bathed in golden light

and dancing in the wind

with the yellows and reds and browns

of next autumn's leaves

drunk of the numbing scent

of next summer's cherry trees

-our lips stained with their red juices.

 

III

 

Stop- I called,

We cannot let the anchors fall

drown in the light of the "midwinter spring"

let ourselves drop down - fall

into icy waters - the first warm ray

tickles the skin, tempts us to drift away;

   into moonlit labyrinths - the air

   is heavily weighed down by jasmine blossoms,

   barefoot memories - a long gone summer

   spent under star-speckled skies with the earth

   warming our bodies.

 

IV

 

Beware of the "midwinter spring"

though the ice is but thin, we cannot know what the rest of winter will bring.

Just remember;

   the morning bird's song has never failed

   to sing the northern winds away

   in patience was kept on a midwinter's day

   bathed in yellow sunlight

   there, in that place it grew ripe

And you-

   You mustn't forget the winter, for spring

   has not yet returned, though so it may seem.

 

Do not forget the taste of cherries ripe

and red, green leaves - rustling

in the summer's sun-ripened breeze

still - remember; now

the cherry tree's bare branches wait

to dance with the wind in their gown of buds and blossoms

waiting still, for a moment in "midwinter spring"

is much like a kiss on a playwright's stage

between actors - gone

before its taste dared linger on

your lips and its touch

strum the strings of your seasoned heart.