Seasons Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Where is my sanity,
I have long kept it, shrouded in a guise
Of things as flamboyant as fire,
And timid like the rain.

What have you done, enmity
Have you forgotten that the real beauty
Does not compel you to be stuporous?
Instead, it urges you to move swiftly, softly like a zeppelin

And where have you gone, darling flame?
You seem to mundify my soul with a joy,
That resembles a butterfly in a realm of dancing flowers
Exploding with a tentative of colors that feed such ebullience

What road have you taken, stalwart passion?
I have embraced such longing, a hungry inclination
To the way I stroke the currents of your hair,
So as to eternally trap me in a scent left in your lair.

And thy self, where have you strayed?
You took the forked path between Gold and Alexandrite,
Where a certain muse of mine, adorning my wounds with salt
Dredging with a scathing that is far from the mundane!

And all the pieces of me,
As if dismembered by a nuisance in the surroundings,
That pledge like cotton and silk, soft like the candid spite
Delivering me into a world of impenetrable abashment

And if you must exceed time,
With the sound your laughter makes,
Then I have aged so much, decrepit and frail
To be recognized underneath the wrinkled sinning martyr.

If you wish to return,
Such redeeming be made, after the losses
And the bereft child, who's the son of grievances
Long to disembark in this painstaking journey where the passages are shunned

Yet, of too much amore shall he render himself useless
To resist such charms and placating caress,
Contemplating between disengaging, and once again engaging
The die is cast, there's a flame fast approaching.

Like a world of ten thousand Suns,
And stars that break in the hands of the twilight,
Let the equinox rejuvenate you with such renewal,
Where the solstice cannot suffice what clamors the heart has.