The Stroke of Spring, a Poem

The step-by-step, of the coming on of spring, translated…

You Need to Renew the Ink, Go Down Gentle & Light

Insert the Water, Drop, by Drop, onto that Clean Ink Stone

Like the Gentle Hands, Holding the Delicate Flowers, with the Gentleness of Melting the Waxes with the Heated Up Ax

Polishing Out the Thick, Spring-Like Color of the Inks

The Very First Stroke of Spring, that Bright Sunlight in the Morn

Splashed Across the Skies, Dancing in Air

Then, Slowly, Falls into Place, onto the Snow-White Pages, Gently

The Kiss for the First Birth in Deep Sleep

With the Lightly Opened Up Light in Measurements of Millimeters

The Darkened Color of the Inks Reflected the Light, Light as a Song

the flowers of springtime…not my photograph…

At the Place Where the Writings Ended, Lifted Upwards

Turning Toward the Left, Around, Connected with

The Start of that Second Stroke

Then, with Glee, Turned Toward the Right Swiftly, to Make that Third Stroke

That, was the Steady and Stable Earth

And, the Awakening, of All Things in the World, in the Strokes

The Leaves are Growing, the Grasses, Budding, that Fulfillment of Spring Flowed Through the Roots

The Coldness of the Snow of Winter Had, Melted in Sum, the Full-Colored Ink Brought the Springs

Filling Up Everything Near & Far

springtime, beautiful, isn’t it???  Not my photo still…

Like the Reflections on Water, the Tip of the Calligraphy Brush Had, Stopped, Like that Arrow, Ready to be Shot Out

From the Very Top of Spring, Falling Down Hard, with the Company of the Thunder of Springtime

Breaking Through the Clouds, the Fog, the Earth

Becoming Dragons, Phoenixes, Swirled Toward the Top, then, Turned in Circles as They Come Back Down

One Became Three, the Forces that Came, with the Speed, Becoming Man, Standing Between the Earth and Heavens

After the Strokes Had Turned and Turned, Recycling the Forces

The No Longer Forceful Strokes, Extended Downward Once More

The Sun that’s Fully Shining Through with the Smiles on Its Cheeks

Nodded Toward the World Below, Sent Out Its Radiant Light, Said

Spring, Had Come

So much anticipation, so much preparation, before that very FIRST sunlight of spring is described here, and the poet was able to keep the readers in suspense, by building up to the moment the sun finally, SHONE through the clouds above, and, springtime is, HERE!!!


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