I love watching the seasons here,
The sycamores in fall,
The sakura in spring,
The colors that mark the passing of everything.

When I first came to wander here,
I stole a leaf for my own
As big as my hands in green and brown
And patterned all in home.

I pinned it to my door
For one long lonely year
And drew upon my wall
The sunset I had left.

Before I found my way back under
Those boughs of paisley gold,
I’d sail half a world away
And work and wait and grow.

By several hundred days and nights,
Flowers bloomed and missed,
But in full season’s time I would
Return to meet alone.

And these fine days we spent together,
In warmth, or rain, or snow,
Breathing in our 1%
As the sun’s rays dusky glowed...

Now again the seasons turn,
We cannot hope to stay
Where once the light of purpose
Has faded clear away.

Though it offers little comfort
And we cannot see the port,
We set our eyes to sea
And prepare to take our leave.

I dearly love the seasons here,
I will remember them from afar
And call to girls beneath fallen petals
who never dreamed they would part.