Midnight on the Meadow

Wallowing against the rustling of the delicate yello zinnias and budding cherry blossoms,

that hold my dearest of memories,

the passage of time becomes apparent as my withering being reflects,

the wind with its gentle nurturing breeze,

attempts to console and ease this seemingly emptiness within my mind,

which longs to escape to an alternative time,

where observing the zinnias and cherry blossoms give me everlasting strength,

that seems impossible sitting upon this decaying patch of land no longer rich in life,

due to the effects of time that holds my dearest of memories,

that I dare not leave on any of these nights which I have laid withness of the transitions between sunset and sunrise,

when the seasons transcend and the midnight becomes further away,

the moment of taking another direction may come,

meanwhile I want to gaze and rest to the sound of midnight,

where my dearest of all memories are ever so present.