Philosophical

When winter turns,
The senses bloom!
You can feel it.
And your heart races too.

It is more than the new pollen,
The new slant of light,
The early birds,
And the warmth.

You can never transcribe it.
And in the north,
You can feel it in March
Rushing through your veins.

I want to tell you that I love you, life.
And it's been a long time since
I stopped growing
And started aging instead.

When I get out of my bubble of care,
I see new bright eyes
In young faces
Looking for moments to last.

They are trapped in the old clasps.
They trade off
Between the teeth of being
And observance.

But to me the rain tastes so pleasant.
In fact, it smells
As sweet as ever
As I take it in.

I wish I could translate
How quickly it passes,
But they have to see it
For themselves.

I see people die before me.
It reminds me that I am next.
There are so many good things
I have to say goodbye to.

Fading Lights