In the pool of our thoughts
some are hazy, reluctant to be
crystalized, cowering in the
deep consciousness yet with
a glim of possibility, like seeds buried
in the earth a bit too deep that

needs soft rain and time,
they hide in silence as
we explore round other ideas.
We cultivate our minds,

broaden the scope of perspective, only then
do the hidden thoughts surface as
gems and we value our continued endeavor
for new knowledge to create, to turn
what seems to be trite into something fresh.

by Byung A. Fallgren

Sunday afternoon
at the remote lake,
we teased naive fish,
listened to the
gabbing water at the shore,
laughing birds at the sparkling water–
love relationship with the nature unbroken.
On our ride back home, jealous rain pours
down, blinding us, while monster
trucks zoomed by, dumping more water
on the windshield,
his white knuckle around the wheel, then
sudden dazzling sunlight, we smile at the
vagary of Mother Nature, thrill, fun we
could’ve missed had we stayed home–
renewed appreciation for
the bountiful outdoors.

by Byung A. Fallgren

Perched on the bare tree with
sunshine by my side,
I dream of spring–
childhood habit, learning
spring comes only to fly away,
like unfaithful lover, tantalizing,
the void in the beauty of the season,
I’ll fill my empty room with the
tender greens and sweet scent of
May to keep the time a bit longer,
to indulge in her warmth.
High up in the tree, I perceive
wider and deeper world, smarter
not to dwell on foolish yesterday,
getting prepared for the coming season
to live fully, to leave with no regret.

by Byung A. Fallgren

Piece of ourselves left
behind evokes a hidden
beauty, sadness of
lost time or
an insight to see
the stars in the
dark waves,
we are the past,
present,
future of the world,
faulty yet bright,
tears disguised in the rain,
we fly against the wind
and our wings
grow stronger.

If this poem sounds similar to others’ it’s
because sometimes our thoughts are similar
to each other. Similarity with its own scent of
arc makes each art interesting.

by Byung A. Fallgren

Myriad footprints,
the path settles
in the aura of golden years,
hidden glow,
thorns softened,
they walk hand in hand
on the same ol’ road
treading over fallen leaves
whisper as if to pay homage
to their love and patience,
bitter-sweet of
yesterday echoes today
of joy and worries for
grandchildren, boredom
subdued in evening dreams,
smile more–revival.

by Byung A. Fallgren

Your voice is
scratchy today, dear,
heavy, a metal ball
sunken in deep ocean,
for you worked
hard all day long,
to my mind,
it’s a gentle rustle of
autumn leaves,
for I hear you
with my heart.

by Byung A. Fallgren

Amongst
lack lusters
a gem
waits to be
discovered

*
Between the withered
petals, underneath soft
piles of the decaying
leaves, faded beauty
reflects on
the warm kisses,
dazzling smiles,
sweet aroma,
precious jewels of
memories,
hidden gem
amongst lack luster,
beneath the frost
she mends her
wings for tomorrow.

To my friend Regina, whose husband left her for
a younger woman: You are still beautiful.

Written by Byung A. Fallgren.
Image by Collin Andrew Maag.