After twelve years, seasons are still four

Published by

Simona Prilogan

7th Sep 2025

After twelve years, seasons are still four
Yet their scent are troubling memories.
Looking at the mirror of innocence I could see that shy girl
Traveling towards the edge of world
In the search of meaning. Being puzzled
Was just a step away from courage.

Knocking on doors of hope, twenty thirteen
Barefoot, grey and sober, unfurled it’s nazar
On the Northern Ireland’s greenery,
Laughing at the outlander ghost
Lost between the chests of miracles.

Quis separabit? The songs of other seasons, maybe.
Or perhaps the colours of imagination
Drawing maps of understanding.
Some days carry their luck under the frustration
Of those who lost their craft
But sign the papers with the ink
Squeezed from torture and terror.

After twelve years, the seasons are still four
Yet their colours twisted the storyline.
Looking at the mirror of innocence I could see that old girl,
Returning from the edge of world
Holding the infinite. The courage
Is just a step away from being puzzled.
Belfast, good to see you again!

2 responses to “After twelve years, seasons are still four”

Nicole Sara

8th Sep 2025

Such a lovely poem, Simona… beautifully crafted!

LikeLiked by 1 person

Reply
1. Simona Prilogan
  
  8th Sep 2025
  
  Thank you so much, Nicole! 💖
  
  LikeLiked by 1 person
  
  Reply

I’m Simona

One day, I tumbled from a tiny star called Dream and landed in a cup of Hope, just beyond the zone of hard work, where daily wishes meet reality.

I’ve always dreamed of visiting Antarctica, though I haven’t made it there yet! Until then, I journey through the intricate landscapes of the human body in my work at the hospital, tracking the unseen stories of cells.

When I step outside my comfort zone, you might find me on a train to Eastbourne, Matlock, or Canterbury, breathing in the fresh air and gathering inspiration. I return with pockets full of poetic ideas, though time rarely lets me write them all down.

London’s endless rainy days often set the stage for my impromptu singing performances on my way to work. I love dancing too, especially the waltz, though I’m a bit too shy to twirl in the rain.

I have a soft spot for pasta, coffee, chocolate, and a good laugh. Politics might elude me, but the human soul does not. And if there’s one thing I believe in, it’s this: Love is our strongest emotion, survival instinct, and essential need.