GRIDPROSE: On Clouds and More.

This is a Gridprose session based on the themes of weather and seasons. Done at midnight, and finished up an hour later.

Drift Away

Drift away, drift away,
Chase after their silhouette,
Come outside, take a ride,
You're not meant to be inside.

So we open, the doors of cages,
We hear the bliss of breezes past.
We step outside, in Spring's Embrace,
And blow a kiss to Nature's Bride.

There she is, fleeting as ever, nothing more
Than earthen cause. I still, would
Welcome her accidents, given that
She nourishes me more.

Promise me, Ra:
Let the Sun shine on my back
As I build the shelter,
For human kind.

Tether the lightning in my hands, for the roar of Earth's call shakes my land & people – & my lightweight steps ready to crackle the ground itself.

In the cold, winter's cottage, lies a writer & his only companions: Parchment, coffee, lanterns & the tools of his trade. He pens the snowfalls of his world, gates to other universe, a lens into every scene found in every snowflake hugging the ground. His paper, his shelter. His words, Love.

I still, in my head,
Miss the blistering heat of Okinawa.
The sunkissed cities, islands of stories,
And adventures found in every grain of sand.
Even when we face the mighty typhoons of Summer,
We do so with a smile on our faces.

A Kingdom of the Sun.

There sheds the auburn hair of Nature; A calling for Vistas amongst the green. Orange, vast, & aplenty.

How I wish to be an Eagle in the sky!
Dare I desire to grow my own feathers!
But, alas,
I am borne to the ground.
So I walk, imagining,
My flights in endless imagination.

Oceans blue, a frozen lake.
The carp reaches out for air,
I stare, worried, crying
for they are trapped in cages of
Water,
Swimming in circles until their
untimely death.
Instead I stare, in pure horror
The mirror reflection of Winter's Kiss.
I see my own face, trapped
Swimming in circles at the Lake of Life.

How lonely this Winter has become.

In Nikko, there lies a forest where leaves go to die. It's a strange sight to see the tourists: Taking pictures of a natural death. It's comedic that there is beauty in the dying, that those leaves let out one last burst of colour, like fireworks taking their final stand. But alas, we stand amongst corpses, taking pictures & posing, caressing their bodies before moving to the next battle. It's a strange caricature: the leaves die to survive, & their demise becomes our entertainment.

Maybe that's why they call it Fall. Tragic, Autumn is.

Imagine the beaches, sand dunes of Summer,
The girls in their sweltering bikinis.
The grilling food, cold sweat of beer,
& crashing of waves from so far
away.

Funny how the heat makes us play,
The seagulls beckon in excitement.
I shout back in joyful glee, as
The watermelon fills my throat.

Could I stretch out my arms &
touch the sun? Or is it enough to
Stay under this umbrella: waiting
for this heat to cool, and for
Summer to never end?

If time would be frozen on Winter's touch, I hope not to grow old surrounded by the blizzards of my loved ones gone.

Do we wake up enjoying dawn & dusk, or do we cope with survival, by finding the beauty in what surrounds us?

I love it when the afternoon rain runs down your face, as we're running, laughing, looking for a roof over our heads. It's nice to offer my sleeves to dry you, wring out your wet hair, bring you in for a wet kiss. I love the warmth from hugging you inside, as we are protected from the rain, and my body is what you lie on. I love the storming taps on the windowsill, as we lay in silence, not a word being said, & let the rain speak on our behalf.

The rain is a translator of my adoration for you.

At the summit,
I can see the
World beneath me
Below, my steps trace
my journey: an
arduous snow for a
view of a lifetime.
Allow me to bask,
Let this moment
crash into my mind.

"These seasons, they have strange transitions. You know, the dead of winter to flowers coming alive. It's sudden. But, there are exceptions: Some flowers bloom in the snow. Some trees thrive in Autumn. What stops us from doing the same? Blooming in adversity."

Crickets in the night,
They howl to find their lovers,
Alas, we're the same.

Arrowroot Candy,
My fav'rite treat from Gunma.
Bought by the dozen.

Life in all seasons: Flourishing, withering, & the blooming of the Soul.