In spring, the cherry blossoms whisper to the dawn,

A fleeting blush upon the face of time,

Their petals, tender promises of ephemeral love,

Each bloom a heart, beating in sync with life's fleeting song,

They dance in the breeze, a ballet of impermanence,

A reminder that all beauty is but a season's guest.

As seasons turn, the guest of spring departs,

Leaving behind the memories of dawn,

The orchard sighs, accepting impermanence,

Its branches bear the weight of passing time,

Yet in its roots, it holds the essence of life,

And in its seeds, the hope of future love.

For love, like blossoms, blooms in its own time,

A welcomed guest, in hearts it comes to rest,

It grows, it fades, a cycle mirrored in life,

From the first blush to the final light of dawn,

Through moments shared, through fleeting time,

It leaves its mark, a tale of impermanence.

Yet, there's beauty in this impermanence,

In knowing that the rarity of love,

Makes precious every second of our time,

That we are but guests in this grand design,

From the first cry to the last breath of dawn,

Each chapter penned within the book of life.

So let us cherish every page of life,

Embrace the bittersweet of impermanence,

Greet each day as if it were the first dawn,

And fill our hearts with undying love,

For we are transient guests, making memories in time,

Before we part, like petals on the wind.

As cherry blossoms must one day resign,

So too must we, the actors of life,

Take our bow and exit from the stage of time,

Leaving behind the story of our impermanence,

A story told in whispers of love,

From the silent night until the morning dawn.

In the dance of dawn, life finds its rhythm,

A guest of time, love blooms amidst impermanence,

A season's tale, beautiful, though not for long.