How quickly these months depart us
Time as pages-some crumpled, or torn
folded and scorned-circled and adored.
Love likes to scent the air
with its springtime perfume
blasting through, remnants of autumnal nostalgia
melting a slumbering soil madness
so deafening in holiday idealistic dystopia.
We shift through, unto, our paired down lives
shirking the responsibilities of our brilliance
scripted through, an accordion of waves
in frequencies few but angels and animals perceive.
Some beg to leave-
others cry for reprieve
but stuck between-here and me is the allofyou
bringing this moment into view.
We witness transition
relative to our own position
the world isn’t small-our ideas are.
As we expand awareness
catching glimpses of infinite wonder-beauty
arriving as a cascading splendor fall
bestowing gifts unspeakable in its wake
beauty-beauty, we must, see it clearly.