Spring has always been
the saddest season
full of big promises
and instability
knowing all will pass
after summer anyway
The rain
The sun
The shine
for Heaven-sakes
make up your mind
Wind
You make me
want to blow over
all your pauses and gusts
whatever celestial becoming
forces living beings
to endure such
impatient forces
soon to be
scorched and released
the most intense beauty
before the snow
we all once had feared
the deep sleep
and yet
on repeat
Spring is the hardest season
as another round
of broken promises
wears hearts thin
and in conjuring up
images of that eternal cup
was always filled
from the bottom up
not top down
oh such swanky ideas
impeding
through a stampede
of bombs
endlessly
destroying
love visions
of a family
Happy
ever after
stories
only the mutually
courageous
can contain
for the rest
of faint hearts
paint glasses fractured
and filter the sunlight
in oversized coffins
called places of worship
Kisses to the death
Instead
where that love belongs
to earth and wind
I whisper to you now
Spring is the hardest season
all the hate
for what follows
the months
after the dandies
have blown away
may disappear
when the collective
gets what they want
it runs in ruin
resulting in a wish
for the solidity
of a bulb that blooms
not once
but twice
not only after
but during
a Winter
that only seems
to feel like forever
because we invited
quite successfully
Eternal Spring.
Mari Amman, Oslo, Norway, 2024
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