The rainbow fell from the sky.
Dark clouds crowded in.
Bolts of lightning struck.
A dove faltered in flight.
My red rose fringed brown.

A maple leaf in fall,
you colored bright,
but found that grasp
hard to endure,
and fell to a wet field
where no violet could grow.

So comes the harsh knowledge
of hearts freezing so easily
in the bitter winter wind,
and that yours did not
grow stronger and brighter
with its every beat
as I had so fervently believed
and endlessly hoped.

A rainstorm over a lake,
so I cried for you.
A sky without a sun,
a cloud without lining,
so my life has become.

A flower’s stem bearing
your stone in its heart,
an emptied river,
no longer flowing free,
nor carrying Life,
Still I desire you.

A caterpillar weeping
tears of dragons
on a starless midnight sky,
a trampled violet
hoping for sunrise,
I wish so for your return.