Your poem conjures up the poetic splendor of nature, especially with the blooming of the spring growing over the dead of the year before. While we wish for that beautiful color to stay on the trees, it must be shed so that fruit can grow later. It must be beautiful see the petals falling by the millions as the blossoms mature and are no longer needed for the tree to reproduce.
The cherry blossom makes its own unique impression. There is something remarkable, miraculous about a tree in full bloom, especially as you cay "to celebrate a new season at the grave of the last one." What a tree, what a season, what a poem. Yes.
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Love ya!
Jane
Sandie
Ron