Would you describe a mystery of seasons
And blink of day, renewing overnight,
Explain to me the multitude of reasons,
Why yesterday is left so far behind?

That it's today and now that we should cherish,
Despite the florals in the poets' bloom
Or under snowy cover, meant to perish,
For hazy future making tiny room?

It's more in past. And irony to islands:
Imagination lures in distant far,
For us to follow faint shade of kindness,
To grasp the lively order, beauty, art,

Or the creation power, joyous, to fulfill
A mysty route of dids and procreation.
Ambition, or a meditation feel, -
Time's rather telling that they both are native.

And, may be, Sun is fast enough in choir,
Among the ancient Suns from red to blue.
It's one tremendous leap of all desire,
To learn how does it feel for you

In vast, forgiving Ocean of forever,
Off-notes bright and gorgeous by design.
The ticking clock is necklace of small evers,
And chaos always takes creative side.

June 2024