A Seasonal State Of Life

The Seasonal State of Life

By Carolyn M. W.

Winter

a child-like wonder

she bounds down the stairs with an electric vigor,

fueled by the excitement she can barely contain.

leaping across the chilly tile floor,

she finally casts her gaze onto the brilliantly lit tree;

a monument of the glorious holiday celebrated.

a smile spreads across her face as a warm glow fills her soul.

underneath the tree lies a plethora of brightly packaged presents,

all waiting for the moment their hidden treasures are revealed.

her weary parents trudge into the living room,

annoyed by the inconvenience of the hour.

their disgruntled mood comes suddenly to a halt,

as they admire the wonder on their child's face.

water lilies

she slips though the great glass double-doors,

past the frozen winter of the Windy City,

and into the warm atmosphere of the institute.

she welcomes the silent solace and glides past the security check.

almost instantly, she finds herself lost in a forest of masterpieces,

wandering through time as she observes every work of art.

each painting, sculpture, and photograph ensnaring her mind,

until it catches her ever-analyzing eyes.

the soft painted water lilies floating in the serene spring scene.

snow

her tentative hand gently peels off her warm, knitted glove,

revealing the soft pink flesh previously encapsulated.

her quivering fingers slowly reach out,

as if she's searching for more than the pillowy precipitation surrounding her,

almost entrancing her frozen soul.

flurries lick the soft skin exposed to the harsh winter gale,

marring her with an angry red.

the elements scream that she should huddle away.

she does not.

instead, she spreads her great, white wings,

and lets the snow soak her soul.

alone

off at a distance, she floats alone.

close enough to hear the jubilant chatter,

but just out of reach of the gleaming lights,

and the warm, glowing atmosphere.

her heart sings a solemn tune that begs her to stray near,

but her ever-so logical brain cries,

"it is better to stay in the cold comfort you know,

than to touch the light and be once again

ostracized."

"i know," she whispers, fragile tears dripping from her eyes,

as she continues to walk farther from hope's light.

a swan song

she felt the darkness slowly surround her,

through the corners of her misty eyes.

she knew what was coming.

her lungs burning and mouth gaping,

hoping to taste even the slightest trace of oxygen.

her body fighting and convulsing,

afraid to let go.

her mind, however, was silent for once,

peaceful.

the ever-present barrage of screaming and negativity was quiet.

she felt her body give its last struggle for life,

and with a soft smile on her face,

her soul floated home.

Spring

back to the beginning

we start as the infinitesimal union of two cells,

melding into each other.

the creation of new life is a biological dance,

as the zygote multiplies to create you.

the tiny tendrils of your parent's DNA

are dividing and uniting, forming the basis of you,

as you float in the dark warmth,

unaware of the wonders framing you.

unaware of how beautiful it is that you are going to exist.

the dawn after an eternity of night

from under the snow-encrusted layers of compost,

she cracks open one of her sand-dusted eyes,

as her amber body stirs from her deep slumber.

the delicate mewling of her young,

echoes in the safety of her den.

she wearily stretches out every ligament lining her body,

and with a violent exhale, expels all the sleep from her soul.

she nuzzles her pups with a feather-like tenderness,

and guides them to the entrance of their solace.

she breaks the icy barrier,

and lets in the first light of spring.

a fresh breath

for years she felt suffocated,

held under water by the chains forged from her failures.

she fought desperately from the trenches of her mind,

attempting to find some semblance of sanity.

everything inside of her screamed to let go,

to give up.

she fought against every fiber of her being,

her will to live shining through her tunneled vision,

an ode to her resilience.

it took the perspective of another person,

someone with more experience than she,

to realize that every mistake was forgivable,

and each link of the chain melted off.

she swam up from the depths tormenting her for so long,

and took her first fresh breath.

oconomowoc

the breeze gently twists the tendrils of my hair,

the faint taste of a thunderstorm riding in the air,

teasing my senses with its possibilities.

sunshine peaks in through the leaves of the deciduous trees,

tracing every curve of each leaf onto the grassy knoll beyond the wooden fence.

from my place on the porch i stare down into the pond below the knoll,

a layer of algae spreads upon the surface,

giving the illusion of an open field nestled in a ring of trees.

amongst the foliage beneath the trees,

the chatter of chipmunks resounds the blessing of life.

serenity flows throughout my body,

filling me with a mindfulness i spent so long searching for,

bathing me in a new state of mind.

an ode to spring

drifting gently through the hydrangeas,

little rays of sunlight make themselves known;

dancing on a bed of earthy mulch and sweet blades of grass,

a tender tango that is barely seen by a busy, unnoticing world.

but she sees them.

she feels the decadent warmth caress her skin.

her soul sings a gentle melody of innocent spring days.

as she pauses to inhale the floral perfume,

a slight smile settles onto her pale pink lips.

letting go of this moment, she returns to her mundane life.

Summer

going home

the cool touch of the brackish bay water washes over her sand-freckled toes.

a crisp, salty breeze gently embraces her,

calling her, like a mother calls to her child.

she stares down into the murky depths as the waves roll in and out,

beckoning her to join them,

to come home.

she feels her body lurch forward, instinct creeping in,

taking over.

her jeans growing heavier as she trudges through the crests and troughs.

a smile explodes onto her face as her feet finally drift past the sand bar.

"finally," she breathes, "I'm going home."

she dives head first into the salty sea.

the only sign she was there are the indents left in the sand,

soon to be washed away.

intoxicating

he stands at the top,

as lonely as can be, but almost free.

the warm summer breeze whispers encouragement,

as the waves below crash a cheer.

his body is pulsing as his time nears.

he fills his lungs with one last breath,

and leaps off his steady surface,

away from the mundanity of life.

for a moment's glance, he is free,

and then he plunges deep into the sea.

this intoxicating feeling fleeing,

as he slowly swims towards the sun.

he gasps in the air,

ready to go again.

my sunflower

her spirit is as bright and warm as the sun on a glorious summer day;

her rays illuminating the souls of everyone she touches with an effervescent light.

her presence heals the broken hearts of the people who need it most.

it feels like you're running, lost in a crooked, tangled forest,

drowning in the frightening darkness surrounding you,

and she is the hope you desperately search for.

she finds you at your wits end,

driven mad by your own mind.

she takes you home and cleans your soul's festering wounds.

she gives you purpose to your undiscovered aspirations.

it took me a lifetime to find her, and in the end,

she is me.

the world's eye

they dance through the neon lights illuminating the fairgrounds,

the fry-scented air electric with excitement.

hand in hand, prattling away, oblivious to the people amongst them.

they wait in the lines, singing along to all the songs the rides play,

smiles never leaving their faces.

as the night slips away,

they reach their final destination.

extending above the tree-line and looming over the whirling rides,

she keeps a watchful gaze.

the guardian of the fair, the world's eye.

they mount one of her gondolas,

sitting across from one another,

admiring each other's beauty in the rainbow light.

as the giantess's clockwork cycle circled them to the top,

they realized everything in the moment was perfect.

lightning bugs

out of the smoky sky of dusk, she appears,

illuminating the circumference around her,

hoping that her biological message will find someone.

anyone.

she waits on a dewy blade of grass,

anticipating a soft glow that she fears will never come to fruition.

her spirit falters.

she can taste the autumnal air riding in on the final summer breezes.

she sighs and makes her final attempt.

her brilliant light flashes,

traveling farther than any of her other tries.

she waits, for this time, she thinks, will make it.

minutes pass, and her fragile hope dwindles before her.

just as her hope drops, she sees him.

Autumn

the beginning to a journey's end

the end starts with a chemical reaction,

a biologic symbol that it is time for change.

the soft greens of the leaves are replaced,

as brilliant shades of reds and oranges grace the treetops,

soon to be a blanket of decaying mass enveloping the earth.

every creature hustling about,

preparing to hunker down for the frozen stillness of winter's kiss,

as the radiant warmth of summer fades into a soft glow.

the nights grow long and weary,

preparing for the long due rest of a life well spent,

until it is time for us to wake again.

an appreciation of november

his warm hand grasps onto her frigid one,

as the sound of leaves crunching under their feet,

fills the crisp air.

all around them mother nature gives her last radiant show.

vibrantly shaded leaves of yellow, orange and red dance above their heads,

occasionally daring to flutter down and kiss the ground.

the sun dips behind the tree line,

casting a maze of shadows onto the road ahead of them.

she glances up at him,

memorizing the way the soft light illuminates his face,

casting a warm glow that entrances her heart.

she hops onto the tips of her toes and gently pecks his cheek.

he smiles down at her and they continue down the path,

set by the underappreciated tone of november.

south dakota

fields of fine golden hair flowing with the wind,

echo their sibilance throughout the rolling plains.

the soft scent of sage and pine from the watchful hills,

carried along the invigorating autumnal breeze,

fills the prairies with a sense of home.

a bison trudges along through the wild grasses,

wandering past the ponderosa pines.

spires of granite rise above the tree line in the distance,

painting a picturesque view few places can recapture.

soon a blanket of snow will envelop the land,

and hide the treasures that lie nestled in the black hills.

the golden hour

shadows settle into the cracks of his well-worn face,

cast by the golden rays as the sun settles down for the night.

his bones groan from the weight of a lifetime,

a culmination of every little moment he has experienced.

he hobbles out of the driver's side of his rusted pick-up,

a relic still standing from a different time,

much like he is.

he lovingly pats the hood of his truck,

turning over the dust-covered memories of his golden days.

a bittersweet smile etches its way across his face,

as he moseys down the dirt path eroded by the footsteps of many.

he pauses at the foot of his porch steps,

runs a hand along the weathered wood,

and glances back at the sun setting on him.

persephone

she glides across the moss-ridden roots emerging from their compost covering.

engrossed in the environment enveloping her,

she inhales the moist, forested air.

a sense of tranquility washes over her troubled soul,

restoring a feeling long forgotten by the frets that intoxicate her mind.

there's a soft rustling as the leaves dance in the breeze,

a silent show only she is witness to.

the ghost of a smile appears on her translucent lips.

she desperately desires for this moment to last forever,

but alas it is time.

she feels the rumble as the ground opens up,

and drags her back below.

she reaches a slender arm up,

capturing the last taste of sunlight

author's note.

the poems of this chapbook represent a death, a birth, a life, and a reflection. all of these telling the story of what i have learned in my time, from my metaphorical death, to my appreciation of life. i wrote these poems in hope that you will read them and take the time to notice what you are truly experiencing. i hope you enjoyed this collection from my perspective.