I am Brilliant

I. Seasoned
the elation you feel tracking a flock of birds across the sky
so many seasons a rose does not bloom
how shallow would your joy be
if attached only to such singular occasion

II. Brilliant
I am brilliant in this season.
I am ripe.
My leaves not ruffled, crumpled
I am ready for a plucking, a devouring.
I know my ripeness is a wanting thing,
a state of the moment, nothing more.
such Ripeness fades more shallow than the waning moon.

Some have unseasoned beauty
in that the brilliance and season
are, indeed, mutually exclusive.

III. A Woman
her hair blue and red, sparks of a midnight waterfall
She upholds tradition while
in a jesture watches it crumble
Her laugh- the mirror that gleams the crescent moon
and driping waterfall spray
She walks edges and does not sway
Her eyes glisten softly with fire,
subtle and direct.
with hands that will the mountains to bend at her pleasure.
calm and fierce beauty indeed.



..... there is more to this, but i haven't found it yet...