Winter is here,
The tree pondered,
Not long from now, the precious leaves that gracefully hung,
Covering its branches, will all fall away.
Then, a faint sound was heard,
A sound without regret, yet wistful and lingering.
We’ll meet again next time,
So I’m alright,
And one by one, the remaining leaves on the branches all fell.
The tree thought and thought,
It was sadness, but
It was also a memory.
The tree waits,
Within the memories.
2. Eating dark nights and hope, soaked in dreams of winter winds, and passing expressionless people. Time goes by, crossing spaces, faces that captivate me time and again shimmer like starlight, like moonlight at the end of a deep day. Flowing words wind through my valley, breaking, scattering, falling, and reaching the pooled longing. What could it have been? My future. The unknown conclusion of my dream. The place where yesterday’s today and hope agreed to meet. It’s simply reciting and being led that keeps me alive today.
3. Do not grieve at the sight of wilting flowers. As they face the cold raindrops winter failed to drive away and flutter in the harsh wind, warm sunlight will shine upon them, and soon green leaves will sprout and bear fruit. Do not grieve at the receding sunset. After the dazzling feast that embroiders the world with beauty passes, a long time of rest is needed, draped in the twilight and darkness that brighten vividly and hide in blue and green. Do not be envious of the new beginnings like the lingering winter, nor fear the departure of the season of fruition. Do not grieve at the fading memories, nor the names hidden in the fog. Above all, do not grieve at what has passed. Grief belongs only to the heart. Just let this moment be enough.
By Jeho Heo
2 Responses
Good poem, Jeho, and welcome to Poetic Genius Society!
Your article helped me a lot, is there any more related content? Thanks!