Sakura Spring

Blue Griffin Collections — Blast from the Past

Cherry blossoms, so gentle to the sight,
a cloud of pale pink in the morning light.
They drift like a whisper, so soft and slow,
the way that your hand brushed mine, just so.

We walked where the petals made carpets of spring,
not speaking of big or important thing.
Just the hush of the breeze, and the sun on your face,
and the world for a moment in gentle embrace.

Your laughter, a bell in the orchard's clear air,
made me think that the blossoms were pleased you were there.
And one landed light on the sleeve of your coat,
a small, blushing star—the first note love wrote.

No promise was spoken, no vow was confessed,
just a fluttering heart in a young, autumn-less chest.
Like the cherry tree's beauty, too lovely to last,
we held that one moment and let it hold fast.

So, I'll keep that spring morning, in feelings, not words,
when my heart was as light as the flight of the birds.
Cherry blossoms, so gentle to the sight,
and the innocent wonder of love's very first light.

This is part of the Flower Poem Series
(A recovered piece of writing from ages ago, typed exactly as it was written back then.)