Song takes root within,

of which its stems are hollow.

Yet irony speaks.

 

Memories amaze,

igniting an inner blaze-

calmed by the water.

 

The steed’s engine roars,

and the road’s gravel cries out.

Only the wind howls.

 

Catch them if you can.

Go chase the petals away.

Back and forth, so on.

 

What if this storm ends?

Let the lightning carry on. 

Ride towards the calm. 

 

The tree’s roots, standing.

That faint spark of forgiveness.

The tree’s roots, searching.

 

The bird hurts to sing.

Like a dew drop within Spring,

hope dangles on string.