Beautiful you are my petals, even when you fall from my sight
You grace my eyes with your golden hue, washing the land in the yellow hidden sun
Do you blossom once a century casting your magic upon this world?
Giving us hope of the new world
First it starts with the sun feeding your mother, causing her to stretch and awake
The coldness of the winter kept her asleep, but now is your time to awake.
Slowly the buds of your home do appear, taking in the joy of the world and recreating the light
The next month of your life is slow, it takes so much to make you grow
The sun blesses you daily and with it we have fun
The waters of the god do hand-feed you, everyone yearns to see you
I know you are scared to show your hue
But this world is now ready for you
Be it new, my body survived through the age
I see now that your mother hangs on, the edge of death she awaits
For it seems this is the last century magic will grace us
Please spread that which I cannot, the magic of grace
Your lovely color now shows, absorbing the rays of the sun
You grow so fast its surprising
The world may look like it's dying, but your light should be enough for a revival
If not, then I will stand till the end of time
Or until this ball slowly declines
Maybe my brothers will shake this place
Bringing me down to share the bed
I see now it's time for you to leave again
You drift from the place you once held so dearly
Blessing the winds with your essence
Now I see that this is a present, patience was worth it in the end.
Go far and show the meek, that we are not what they seek but need
For your yellow flows swiftly towards the night, I thank you for being with me this one last time
YOU ARE READING
The Poetry Gripe
PoetryWelcome to a collection of poems I've written over the years. Some are a true delve into meaning and life. While others struggle with love and strife. The path ahead is not so easy. Please be careful reader, the mind is not so easy.
