moons watched

the mighty oak

acquire rich foliage

tiny buds swollen

to overflowing

burst forth new

and supple life

great with pleasure

the oak lifts its bounty

towards the heavens

caterpillars feast

on shiny leaves

the lungs of

the world sigh

whispering

love songs

the earth

pirouettes

then bows

days turn

shorter

air crisper

the once soft

kisses of summer

rudely replaced

with bitter shades

of knighthood

gallant to the end

the knave grasps

its bounty

acorns in derby hats

lay scattered

a foot

each passing

days rob

it of more

of its ruby

gems

until in one fall

swoop

they are all taken

nostrils

of the north

wind

save one

across the world it is raining

not droplets of water from the heavens

this rain does not nourish crops of corn

its seedlings nurtured on bloody ground

fledge future kamikaze pilots

they seed the clouds with terror

the sky cannot bear these heavy thoughts of revenge and justification

hate flourishes

it rips open the sky, the land, the sea

the torrent of hate destroys everything in its path

it tears at the very fabric of mankind

it leaves us bloody and bruised

hate no longer serves us it serves itself…

always did

we have to let go of hate