Cherry Blossom
Cherry blossom, cherry blossom,
Dancing, lilting in the breeze,
Hither speak of pretty whispers,
Told to you by buzzing beez.
Cherry blossom, cherry blossom,
Petals, soft, and sweet, and fair,
Sing to me the dryads’ musings,
Floating, bobbing through the air.
No one else can hear us speaking,
Tell me of the butterfly,
Narrate what you know about her,
Flitting, lightly in the sky.
Gentle blossom, modest blossom,
Blushing pink at every word,
Vibrant feathers blur around us,
Tell me of the hummingbird.
Saddened blossom, silent blossom,
Do not scorn your oldest friend,
Think of times we spent together,
Come, let not our trysting end.
Give me just a moment longer,
Let me hear you one last time,
Cherry blossom ring with gladness,
Let me hear your honest chime!
Ah, but flowers pure and lovely,
Speak to children’s ears alone,
Here I stand, a hardened sinner,
Sighing o’er what once I’d known.
Lauren V. Leon is a pianist, amateur poet, writer, and artist. She resides in Riverside, California, and works as a Catholic parish musician, choir director, and private piano instructor.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful poem! The fleeting cherry blossom is the perfect medium for the voices of nature and you have captured perfectly its brief sojourn in childhood, when hearts and minds are free and can hear its whispers.
The word “wistful” could have been invented for this poem. The childlike quality of the first four stanzas, and the note of regret which is then introduced grow to a gently melancholic conclusion all too familiar to most adults. The innocence of the imagery and the almost hypnotic repetition of “blossom” are, for me, reminiscent of a nursery rhyme. Thank you Lauren – I really enjoyed this piece.
This is such a delightful, happy yet wistful piece; your musical background shines through. Thank you for this gem.
A pure and lovely flower song, Lauren, that trills subtly into the sad theme of losing irreplaceable good. The appeals in the fifth and sixth stanzas tragically untune closeness slipping away. Looking back at the third and fourth stanzas, we see that they had made innocent appeals for knowledge. The poem defies interpretation of the process it describes–very much is left to the feelings of the reader, which is one mark of genuinely rich music. The “explanation” of age and hardening in sin, supplied by the final stanza, remains mysterious. We merely recognize and acknowledge. So very beautifully done!
Somewhere in the Universe there is a world where all of this makes sense, where your sighs have an impact on what is actually out there. No one should abandon hope, or at least I hope not.
If you’re a child of cherry blossom moments (we had a cherry tree in our garden), they are indelible.
Alas, mine were mainly of sweeping up the difficult-to-sweep-up fallen blossoms, the cherries being eaten by birds before I could get my hands on them, and my neighbour’s cat (for some reason up in the tree) peeing on my dad’s head while he pruned the tree.
That said, the Japanese have the right idea and celebrate the cherry blossom as you have in this poem, Lauren.