In Front of a Frozen Window, a Poem

This, is still NOT my photograph here…

Translated…

Three sharpened black dots

Like arrows

Shooting through

The white wintry morning

They were three crows

Taken flight from the tips of the branches

Like the magical shadows taking flight

Landed, on my neighbors’ rooftop

The eyes that woke from the winter’s slumbers

Stared, without blinking at

This temporary stage that was set up

Wanted to see how the magician called spring

Is going to be able to use her hands to

Pick up these few black dots

Lifting them up, shaking gently

And turn this hillside

Into the varied shades of reds, yellows, greens and purples

So this, is as spring is coming in, and the poet is by the window, watching the changes in the world, how the living organisms that were originally fast in their slumbers in winter time is slowly waking up, and how those flowers that were originally withered away are now, coming into bloom, it must be amazing, to be able to see the changes of the seasons from one’s own window.