Wednesday, September 01, 2004
Winter
As the sweet warmth of summer,
subtlely fade away,
displaced by the cold cruel Winter.
One rose stood defiantly,
against all odds,
challenging the inevitable.
It refused to wither,
such audacity -
giving courage to a garden of others.
Gathering every strength,
harnessing every hope,
the field of crimson rose,
clung together as they stood,
defying their fraility,
standing together,
for one last moment of glory.
Cruel white death fell,
it fell relentlessly that night,
covering the earth,
blotting out that last patch of colour.
Joey Kum
Spring
Exit cruel winter,
the harsh destroyer of life,
which stangles the joy of the roses,
stealing from them their eternal glory,
encasing them in a brittle statuete-
of frozen life which inevitably,
would shatter and melt away,
with the return of warmth,
the harold of the coming spring.
New life sprout from where death left off,
testimony to the fallen visage of greatness,
a gravestone to those that fought,
those that fought bravely defiantly,
but fell in life's eternal battle,
against the seasons,against all odds,
against our mortality-
a testimony that in turn assume,
the role of the courageously defeated,
with the coming of the next winter.
Joey Kum
Summer
In my keenest vision,
the abundance of summer light,
so warm and so wondrous,
hurt my tired eyes,
which have grown pallid,
having witnessed endless winters.
The blinding and fufilling embrace,
or the respiteful summer,
ends my dark and painful pondering,
as the apparant clarity of summer,
and the essence of life it restores,
brings youth back to my ancient limbs.
I lumbered onto the lushly green pastures,
to welcome the benevelont summer,
but i was blinded and unused to comforts.
Stubbornly i dragged my entire being,
into a dark dank alcove i call home,
hiding quietly in wait for autuum,
to welcome once again my eternal winter.
Joey Kum
Fall
Not the act of falling,
but rather the season,
which in irony in some sense synonymous,
where both indulges sunsets,
the conclusion to many stories,
the heralding of a cold begginning.
The leaves fell like my days,
the time that slipped as i counted,
into realms of infinity as i witnessed my life,
slipping slowly from me,
my youth quietly descending to the ground,
the earth of age and flightlessness,
as my days gently fall and drift with the winds,
carelessly without thought,
as they find the end of the journey,
the lost of the gift of flight,
amongst the grounded and weary.
Empty and devoid of life,
the dried leaves rustle,
calling for the coming of winter.
Joey Kum
Posted by Jo