Towering over the calm lake,
Stands a tree,
Not alone,
Far from it.
It's produce gently covers the lake,
Covering it with a pink gradient.
Look at the trail going onwards.
It holsters the power of ancient spirits,
With everything inside the blossoms.
These trees are the complete different kind of life,
Similar to that of a rainbow,
Always leading to something special.
In this case,
They lead to a temple,
Dominating all life below.
The temple gets shrouded by these trees,
Not visible from the ground,
Not visible from high above.
It's roofs curve like a wave,
Sturdy as a Roman formation.
Enter through it's gates,
Walk along the emporer's path,
And gaze upon the scroll,
Mounted carefully on the mantle.
Look into the water basins,
To hear the cries of ancient spirits,
With their faces glaring.
And all this, Is just hidden by the ever so peaceful
Cherry Blossom.
Tombs of the fallen samurai's bravery.
~Archie Germaney
YOU ARE READING
Cherry Curtains
PoetryIt's there, just covered, shrouded by the curtains of the cherry blossom.
