Keys in one hand, lip gloss, sunglasses, flowy spring dresses—check;
sun-dappled alleys, a light spring breeze,
and the word to befriend the magic—komorebi.
Ready to step into my own Hayao Miyazaki movie,
the sky blues, the tree greens, the soft touch of cotton-candy clouds,
and the babbling water fountain pulling everything together.
Magic is afoot, and May, its welcoming host.
An old friend winks at me through the emerald leaves of towering oak trees,
asking me for a quick game of hide-and-seek.
Long time no see!
I close my eyes, count to ten, and let its warm touch clue me in:
“Tag, you’re it!”.
It finds me again on quiet streets,
with the neighbourhood cats keeping me company,
basking in its familiar embrace just like me,
trills and chirps reviving a once locked-away zest for life.
It’s spring again. And my ears and lungs take it all in.
Symphonies echo in my eyelashes and nostrils,
magnolias and wisterias leading me through a maze of
childlike wonder and joy of living,
towards an idyllic land
where fairies leave pixie dust behind on vibrant flower petals
—glittery clues to the best sleep there is—,
making me wonder what it would be like to take a nap
inside of a sunset-painted iris.
What marvels!
I go hunting: for colour, for joy, for life,
and I return victorious.
There’s chatter reverberating across the park,
a toddler clapping to the local musician’s electric guitar tracks,
a little girl twirling on beat,
a dog auditioning as a backup singer,
and a wooden bench right to the side,
from where I can people-watch undisturbed.
Oh, have the little things in life grown up to be enthralling giants!
And am I glad be resting on their shoulders,
taking everything in with the appetite of an insatiable daydreamer!
May and I are best of friends,
unequalled and unmatched.
Da Capo al Poetry 