“Dandelion’s Song”

I’m finally back, after my longer-than-intended absence, and this week I bring you a waka for Rachael Ritchey’s #BlogBattle.  That’s fine though, because I’m going to tell you.  A waka, translated “long poem,” is an old form of Japanese poetry with alternating lines of five and seven syllables.  A while back, I mentioned the waka to Rawls E., we decided to both write a spring waka, seeing as it’s April and all.  I hope you enjoy it!  Tell me what you think!

Dandelion's Song

Encapsulated

Life caught in vessels buried

Beneath snow and earth,

Awaiting the break of spring.

Unseen, unknown to all

Patience next to life

Grows and blossoms long before

Life to life awakes

Yet longer still spring tarries.

Indiscriminate

Cold and dark permeate all.

Life dwindles then stirs.

Ice softens then flows, gives way

To water, flowing,

Coursing, weaving, moving in

Earth once firm as stone.

Life thrills in adulation,

Breaks forth, surges up,

Explodes into morning air.

Bathed in sunlight warm,

The world with birdsong ringing.

Deaf, blind, and silent

The seedling rises higher,

Spiting, surviving

Nights of frost and snow dustings,

Waiting for the sun

To lend its radiant heat.

Warmer grow the days,

Shorter grow the frigid nights,

Thicker grows the stem,

Larger grows the delicate

Beauty wrapped in green.

Gently sways upon its stalk

The gold hid within

As faster blows springtime’s wind,

Bearing enchantment,

The sweet, earthy scent of rain

On its gusty breath.

Leaves outspread, peeps of golden

Eye upturned to sky,

Gray clouds let loose their wet gift.

Eagerly received,

Roots drink the liquid bounty,

Draw it to the leaves

And unfurling yellow rays.

Then are blown away

The clouds, pulled back like curtains.

Again shines the sun,

Golden gaze set in soft blue,

Met by gold in green.

Sightless looks the little one,

Dandelion bright,

At the greater golden sphere.

Voiceless joins the flow’r

In singing spring’s sweetest song,

Sings for a moment only,

Then is borne away

In the grasp of childish hands,

Feet in mud squelching.

Stolen now the life once had,

Full of endless song.

Yet far sweeter melodies

It makes, though now pluck’d,

In a mother’s gentle smile.

And so the days pass

In water in crystal held,

Till the petals fall,

Seeds in their place appearing.

A final plantish

Breath is drawn beneath the sky,

Then life ends by breath

Of a human child, blowing,

Scattering the seeds.

Life and growth begin anew.

Tally ho! ~Natasha.

blogbattle-award-1