Breath

Asian women have often sung

of blossoms clustering on the trees

like snow. By now the metaphor

is ancient as the word  maiden

but  symbolizes (still) how Spring is Winter

and Winter is Spring.

 

From a distance, the white bloom

looks the same. A bride raising

her bouquet to the light, offering

what has been gathered from

the garden's burial or baptism.

 

Some birds leave then return. Strings of grass

tuned by their lift and landing. Others stay

singing consistently -- from beginning

to end, end through beginning.  Boundaries

melt or freeze into one.

 

Each year, we cross over seasons

unaware how immortality

is already written, colored and carved

on our bones.
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The beautiful painting is by artist, Viki Ye