Sunshine
conquers everything
when lark and blackbird sing
and we can hear the sound of wings
gliding

Chewing
fresh red strawberries
A midsummer party
Day conquers night – summer solstice
Sweet dreams

Leaving
naked branches – one
by one – dry blushing leaves
Photons falling – bitter sunshine
Lonely

Frozen
Everything’s dead white
Nights filled with crystal tears
Someone shivering in darkness
Turning

---

Sunshine
conquers darkness
and lark and blackbird nest
while we enjoy wild geese flying
crying.
.
.
.

…to be continued…

When even the future
has turned to memories never realized,
the fifth season has materialized
– season of witchcraft and magic
when contradicting matters
that’ll never fit or meet yet do
– without fitting.
It’s white chalk or aluminum combs
against blackboard or window.

This is it – my life – perpetually verified
as a middle age wasteland of timeless limbo
between the past and future "then"
of experienced time
I imagine patrolling each side of "now".

When walking the well-known nature path,
never ending because it’s bent into itself
like all curved air,
snowflakes are dancing by my left side
and caressing sunbeams are kissing my cheeks
by the other.

Seasons meeting in the fifth season.

The left celestial hemisphere is covered
by distant stars – yes, there’s the Big Dipper –
in the mystic realm of northern light
and from the top of the right
one a bleeding sun keeps transforming
innocent summer birds
to falsetto-singing Michael Jacksons.

The fifth season is secretly developing
in mind and emotions
– season of credible witchcraft and pure magic.

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