...tears
upon fall
the storm’s pearl gray sky
drips teardrops every way..
here and now
daylight fades,
inch by inch,
south of the puddles left behind..
focusing on the illusion of time
only muddies
the storm’s lucid liquid cries..
a moment overflowing
forms a river of tears
flowing past traces
of what once was now..
ashes turning into dust,
carried away
as the storm’s possession..
crossing muddy waters
without baggage
contemplative thoughts
pondering mind made measures
of time and distance
…yet
the world
mystically turns
tides ebb and flow
a journey is motion..
once cast afloat awakening
...voyage through the sea of being,
even unchanneled purpose
will always lead to the traces
of some other storm’s
unambiguous
puddled shorelines...
1 comment:
nicely done.. life's flame builds upon the ashes from the last campfire.. so too does one storm lead to the next..
olla
Post a Comment