November’s Blossom

Seems like hundreds of years flew away

On a heart with no beat struggling to stay

November the 6th was the date

When it skipped some beats to a classmate

The whole world dwelled in his eyes

Beaming blue as our eternal skies

Forbidden dreams there were born

Fatal silence by screams worn

The World in his world I did see

Yet to notice, blind was he

Once again I wasn’t right

Left I turned when Right was right

Between friendship and love born pain

I chose friendship, but reached for vain

For I couldn’t control a lost beat

His shadow by me left no empty seat

But I chose the hardest, and it was a lone choice

I set sail, but haunts my time his voice

“Plum Blossoms” painting by Jia Lu

Fear over years grew

Tears cut but never sew

Finding no peace in my roam

Flew back again home

It was a sweet November day;

The sixth since I sailed away

The way drove me to an old road

Along, trees and breeze composed an ode

There I was on school’s gate

Once again a slave of fate

Memories stormed inside

Couldn’t find any shelter to hide

Until a tender hand woke my shoulder

I turned to see who dares making my reborn beats molder

Paralysis stroke my storm when eyes met

“I knew I’ll find you here; I do regret

Didn’t know how precious you were till you sailed the seven seas

Leaving me ticks to count and a beat hard to ease

I’ve waited you for so long

Your heart is where I belong”

I grabbed all the courage I could

To set fire on a wet wood

Drenched in tears for years

But then stole my voice cruel fears

And I found myself hiding in his bosom

November’s no more in Fall; there I was in blossom

52 thoughts on “November’s Blossom

  1. It’s not often that we are taken aback by a painting, but this painting delivers what set fire to tear drenched wood does.

  2. The last para graph is just stupendous Mira! ” I grabbed all the courage I could

    To set fire on a wet wood” these lines haunt…You carved a world out of your words and the sweetness of the feelings drenched them with poignant waters..

  3. I was mesmerized by the heartbeats in your words…a very awesome poem Mira…i was to happy tears of love for your moment! Have a beautiful day my sister, as your heart always radiantly shines ever so bright!

  4. Sometimes, we give more than time and ink to a page. Sometimes we bleed, and even when years have passed, fingers rub raw the scars hidden within the lines. I love this, Mira. For all the ordinary reasons, but for others I cannot name, but know that you know them (the same). ~ My love to you always, Bobbie

  5. So poignant, touching and tender…..i could feel the beats throb through me.
    Memories of a lost november…..perhaps found again?
    The ending’s happy and sweet…

  6. You have birthed life, treasuring these moments.
    Consciously, I cannot write a single word here — You have released me
    into words that can bring tears to bond over a lesson of life and emotions.
    Why do we have to learn?
    Courage comes from muddied chapters of life, and life designs a strange path ahead — Love is there and dead it is, and love is to be found again.

    I’m very unsure at this moment, and in your flow I pray again. I’m back as a wanderer, and what do I see?

    Apologize me, I recalled something that burns within. Apologize me,
    I will flow in this moment of silence for a while. It is transient, but fluent.

      • O’ dear & what do we have but those beats we carve in time; in the same time that carved them earlier!!
        Don’t know if I’m glad to have your beats stirred here but I’m sorry for igniting that flame you’re hardly trying to convice yourself that it was put off long ago..
        Perhaps I’m gone nuts to analyze it this way but I do trust my third eye & that connection I feel upon reading some of your poems..
        By the way no need to correct; remember WE (poets) read beyond the written of words:)
        Ah & I miss reading you; hope I’ll be back soon; there should be many many missed beats by then.

        Love & Light

        • We are repurchasing the same time, Mira. Humans are twisted.
          It was there, and it will be — peace I can offer in new direction.

          In those beats, I can count few good ones too. It is to be born in a moment, and to die in a moment. I felt your memories, and they started beating in me. Life it is, Mira.
          Cheers. 🙂

  7. I could feel the echo of each beat
    as your pen to paper did meet….
    what a beautiful work of art….
    I needed this before I start to get ready for work
    will give me much thought as I wander through my mundane
    Thank you …
    Take Care…

  8. Extraordinary twists and turns in this saga, with a stunning visual that seems to melt into the words. Some lines just make me catch my breath. A work of art, carved, not written, carved.

"Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought & the thought has found its words"; I know mine's make no sun shines, but....YOU can tell better!

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