Encountering the gentle breeze of dawn,
Listening to the early bird's melody,
Seeing the scattered green buds on tree branches,
Breathing in the fragrance of soil and vegetation in the air,
These sensations remind us, still naive,
Of a feeling so familiar,
As if it were just yesterday.
This is the spring rushing towards us,
Like a babbling brook in a mountain stream,
Gracefully merging into our souls,
Spring arrives with elegance,
To listen, to feel,
To explore, to discover,
To ponder, to describe,
To recite, to sing.
Perhaps
Yesterday's world
Was filled with barren branches, fallen leaves, and sparse vegetation,
But today,
Spring has awakened within a poem.
About the Creator
Emory Bewley
Yearning to sketch the landscapes of the soul with words, traversing endless realms of imagination, and delving into the depths of human nature.
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Hall of mirrors
Things used to matter, before all the noise. And at that time when things still had meaning, there had been dreaming too, when dreams still mattered. And the brightest dream from those times was full of mountains and seas and smiles and the types of passion that absorbs you the way a dog is absorbed by witnessing something for the first time: with absolute presence, and awe.
By Giulia Viti3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
I hope to read more from you; welcome to The Vocal; I subscribed. Please keep sharing with us. Thank you.
I definitely got the vibe! Great poem!🥰