Cherries

In the garden where cherries grow, grow every year

I sit and wait until next year comes

There, cherries, the diamonds reflect my memories

me as a child, as a girl, as a blossoming flower

there I sit and wait longer, and longer

and all memories arrive back to me

and I see my grandmother in an old- fashioned apron

leaning back, under that tree, that tree of solitude

waiting for cherries to be thrown down by me

there are gone, memories decay

but I still sit and wait, and wallow, wallow

waiting for year, the year that follows

my memories

tones and lyrics that always create wetness in my visuals

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A4o4Cditrb8

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vxQs84FMWQ

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rO8JWbG6bVw

I sometimes wonder how each of us, each individual, each soul, each wandering body, and questing apples, we all can bear the beauty of the world.
Do you also need to cry when you see it? When you have that over-encompassing feeling, when it all is brimming over, over your soul because mind has exposed you to the cradle of prettiness, not prettiness like you see, but you feel, you breathe in, and out, like the air, the simple invisible, air, the most relevant particle in our life.
THE PERPETUATING IRONY OF LIFE. THE IMPORTANT IS INVISIBLE TO EYES. Even the little prince, so big in his heart knew it.