Spiraling to the ground, the cherry blossom leaves her home,
Falling from the sky and floating all around,
Watching sights high and low
Before she touches down once more.
The cherry blossom flies past springtime flowers,
And honeybees busy at work.
She watches Rain grace Earth with a gentle shower,
But in the downpour she shivers
For she is not a wildflower at heart.
The breeze blows her to sea,
Ocean fed by the little stream,
Dancing with starlight and fairies,
The cherry blossom twirls through the clouds.
As she sways in the trees,
She wishes to never touch down.
She journeys over endless meadow
Seeing crows in field of grain
And does along the way.
The cherry blossom is swept across the world,
Watching sights high and low,
Before she must touch down once more.
The cherry blossom falls little ways,
And she fights to remain amongst the clouds,
But it is her time to leave,
She can not stay.
Once more, she touches down,
Ready to sleep again on the ground.
She is not a wildflower at heart
But she did not mind being apart from her tree so much
After all.
Poem & Photography by Hazel J. Hall
Hazel J. Hall 
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