
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ Cherry Blossoms: A Dance under the Sky

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Beneath a sky of fragile blue,
The cherry trees awake anew,
Their branches stretch, a tender plea,
To bloom in silent symphony.
A thousand petals, soft and bright,
Unfurl against the morning light,
A fleeting blush, a whispered grace,
Adorning earth’s unhurried face.
In ancient groves where time stands still,
They crown the valley, crest the hill,
A sea of pink, a fleeting tide,
Where dreams and winds of spring collide.
Each blossom holds a secret sweet,
A tale where life and loss entreat,
For though they glow with ardent cheer,
Their days are brief, their end is near.
The air grows thick with petal rain,
A perfumed sigh, a soft refrain,
They twirl and drift on zephyr’s breath,
A dance defying time and death.
The samurai once stood below,
Their swords at rest, their hearts aglow,
And saw in blooms a mirrored fate—
To shine, to fall, to celebrate.
Oh, cherry blossoms, bold yet frail,
You weave a luminescent trail,
Through temple yards and riversides,
Where love and longing still abide.
The lovers pause beneath your boughs,
To whisper dreams and tender vows,
While children chase your scattered bloom,
A fleeting joy amidst the gloom.
The sun ascends, the petals gleam,
A vision born of nature’s dream,
Each flower dares to greet the day,
Though night will steal its hue away.
The moon ascends, a silver guide,
And bathes the grove in quiet pride,
The blossoms glow, a ghostly sheen,
A fragile bridge to worlds unseen.
Yet soon the winds grow sharp and cold,
The tale of spring too quickly told,
The branches bare, the petals strewn,
A carpet pink beneath the moon.
They fade to earth, their glory spent,
A cycle wrought with sweet lament,
For in their fall, a truth is sown—
From endings, beauty’s seeds are grown.
The roots dig deep, the seasons turn,
The embers of the past still burn,
And come the thaw, the buds return,
A fire no winter dares to spurn.
So cherry blossoms rise once more,
A testament to what’s in store—
That life, though brief, can brightly blaze,
And leave behind eternal rays.
Oh, blossoms of the fleeting spring,
What songs of you the poets sing,
Your petals fall, your spirit stays,
A timeless dance through endless days.
From Kyoto’s courts to distant lands,
You rest in earth’s unyielding hands,
A symbol soft, yet fiercely true,
Of all that blooms, and all that’s new.