Poems

First of May

ERICA WHITE

Rain sinks into the pond. Fallen sakura petals cling to water lilies on the surface. They drift, small and large together, like children pawing at the raincoats of their mothers. A breeze folds overhead, sends white ripples over the surface, and it is only me.

The budding of spring

PHILIP VYAS

The days become easier as the sun shines upon me, to greet me in the morning and I say “hello” back! Thank you for gracing me this day. This brand-new day. Life is returning, the bugs begin to hatch from their eggs to start the search for food and a mate. Signs of life are of course marked with signs of death as the mosquito hangs in the spider’s web. Winter an interesting place of complete and utter silence. The signs of life and death cease as the cold descends to the throne. The stark nature of forever. Nothing changing, nothing moving, nothing dead.

From this, the sun gives me birth and hope of life again. The warm air caresses me and your bright colour turns everything on. I can feel it. Life has returned and now I may endeavor to live once again. Like the early insects flying out to see the world anew I too dream of seeing, touching and smelling the outside like saying hello to a friend, A friend that fills you with hope and expectation. Expectation of life and living, of jumping, shouting, dancing and laughing. All because you have returned.