A Poem for Summer

Be kind and be merciful.
Forgive the dark, scorched
sheets. I guess I couldn’t
make it out of them to feel you,
lay on your lawns,
find bliss in your breezes,
be present, hopeful.

Forgive tidal-soaked pillows.
Empathize, please.
We’re both familiar with darkness stealing
our light.

Be reviving and be gracious.
Acknowledge effort and
reward it as if I were your
parched soil and
you had the power to release
a flood.

I know you don’t.
But if you did,
overflow.

Be as rigorous as the fall,
but not as painful;
as metamorphic as spring,
but not as equally contaminated,
as both were beyond cleansable.

Be fragrant and full of life.
Bustling, hour after hour,
there I’ll be, making ends
meet, working for the immaculate
grade, and struggling for a
picture-perfect lifestyle.

So simply, be honest.
Remind that such a life might not exist and that’s okay.

Prod this heart of mine
to pursue joy,
as it won’t flee from the pressure to keep running the race under your heat.

Joy is strong, resilient
in that way, but above all else,
revitalize and heal.
The wounds caused by shards of
fall and spring feel sort of fresh,
waiting for divine bandaging.

So be careful.
I am a work in progress.

Warm this soul to the point of simmering, much before boiling,
then give me space to breathe.

253 days ago,
you ended incredibly, but left the rest of the year up to your friends
far from kind.

With 17 days until your dawning,
redeem yourself and ready my everything for your aftermath, whatever it may be.

Through it all,
I ask that you fail
to disappoint and carry with you
a gentility unparalleled.

I’ll choose to love you
if you agree to do the same.

Be gentle, Summer,
so gentle.

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