The Four Maidens
#1 of Poems
It brushes by a cool breeze in the spring... It shines like the solstice of summer... It falls like leaves in autumns... And it rests like snow of the winter...
The first maiden conducts
in her flowery dress
the song the birds sing
carried by the breeze.
By her side rests
a basket woven
by hand
filled to the brim
with buds
and blooms.
The second maiden
gazed at the
flowing river
in her blue robes
that did flow like the tide
alongside the cool wind.
She brings
fresh fruits
and fine wine,
tarps for the rain,
and water from the spring.
The third damsel strolls in
on her pumpkin carriage,
her dress snared in vines
and crusty leaves.
She carries
a rich harvest
by her side,
whistling a tune
of hard labor
and merry dancing.
The fourth lady
dresses in white,
a cloak over her eyes.
She holds out her trembling hands
to offer
silvery flakes,
cold winds,
and warmth by a
lonely fire.
The first damsel
offers the quiet lady
in white
bright flowers
and blooming buds
to give her silvery landscapes
color.
The second lady
gives the flowery maiden
fresh fruits
and warm winds,
cool rivers
that flow with fierce
currents
to move her lively landscapes
along.
The third maiden
pulls from her carriage
a gift for her
sister in blue:
rich harvests,
orange leaves,
hard labor,
and festivals
to fill her
warm nights
with song and dance.
Finally, the hooded damsel
blows her silvery flakes
over her sister's
carriage
to coat her bright,
colorful scenes
in white
and give the land she filled with song
the gift of
silence.
And when all gifts
exchanged hands,
the ladies gathered
around in a
circle.
With word they
vowed
to return once again.
For t'was not farewell:
their cycle had only
begun