qasa'id

[...] OF THE SEASONS

"

i.        crystal

the atmosphere has frozen

there's no air to breathe anymore

the frost binds your wrists in manacles of ice

and sometimes

you feel it thaw – weaken

in the soft evening glow

the heat will dig its nails into your skin

and warm your blood

the warmth of their hands isn't enough

you've heard that all that glitters is not gold

but for some reason

you never apply it enough

it's a new year's resolution

broken every time

and every passing second

is a demanding chime

ii.        phoenix

button up

the world is beginning to batter against your skin

there's no escape – no clear path

all the dreams you have built up

will fade and fall just like

trees lose their leaves in the autumn breeze

but you do not have the grace of leaves

you crash

and from the ashes

the phoenix rises

your flame is but a spark now

the wind keeps blowing it out

but the oxygen feeds the flame

and you grow once again

a gentle presence says, "don't worry,

you'll find your call."

iii.        nebula

dive in – immerse yourself

let it cover every inch of your skin

until you are one with it

you are caged within yourself

but they are no restraints

this is your shield, your pillar, your life

broken down into one all-encompassing principle –

freedom

every particle within you buzzes

filled with energy like fireflies

the pale purple ghost of dawn flits by

but you remain restless

you stride with power

strumming along the muscles in your limbs

you do not leaves ashes in your wake

but rather the ripe fruit of your work

iv.        petrichor

no matter which way the wind blows

remember the roots that ground you – anchor you

to a home of evolution

you are naturally averse to change

every turn of the season inspires mayhem –

a bleeding nose, a bout of flu

but this hardens you, armors you –

thrills you

every time that embrace feels different

different fabric beneath your hands

different scent wafting past

but this warm feeling –

this pool of heat in the pit of your stomach

it's always there

and you think

this is home.

"

-- THE CHANGING OF THE SEASONS

[alternatively entitled: "do you ever wonder how the sun feels?"]

[four seasons come and gone and here we are. we're still the same, but something  big has shifted -- a culmination of all the little interactions between us and the world, and we can't go back to naive innocence but i don't think we want to either way. these changes are cyclic, continuous, and ever-present. we resent them and welcome them in the same breath but the irony is lost on us in the midst of our angst. i don't know where we'll be after another four seasons but i know it'll be where we're meant to be. so this is for you and for me, despairing and hoping against hope, questioning and confused, wearing our hearts comfortably on our sleeves but cowering behind confidence all the same, lost but still tethered to the world by a feeling that settles within us the same way a good song does, and maybe that's what this whole 'finding yourself' thing is]