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Recurrence
behold sprouts as they flower
In the lap of nature, the mother
little bud unfolds
Until open to the eyes,
painting time with aroma
a spirit in emission
but Like the transition:
a crescent from a moon
fade, flowers swiftly soon
yet next spring reborn
are we those flowers
in a way
we burn to learn ... to know …
filling the memory
but when nearly know
we become a memory
in a way, in a form,
(like buds re-bloom)
Would we reincarnate,
on a farther cycle’s phase
have we been there before? … would we periodically recur?
neat poem
i enjoyed
it very much .