January 30, 2006
Fleeting Dew

This fleeting world of dew seems now to linger,
how rests the dew upon fragile blades of grass?
Often has the wind changed since love’s passing,
yet still my sleeves are wet with thoughts of music?
Made with the humming of passion and release,
such beauty between giving flesh has never been.
Even now love’s memory scatters to the wind,
each passing somehow more beautiful than the last.
When in haste this world of dew is left upon the grass,
will we meet again upon the petals of the lotus?
*Note: this is a slight variation on the version of this poem shown in the February, 2006 issue of the eZine, Scrawled.
Filed by Chris 大斌 at 10:02 pm under Adventures In Poetry, Reflections
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