Below is another poetic response to someone's comment on time's passage.
Dreaming trees,
root ever deeper
into forgotten seasons
veiled by curtains
of rain and sun.
Whisper, leaves.
O, fallen hours—
muted by time—
stand again, chorus
your thousand
thousand voices:
I am alive again.
I am Here—I am Now.
I am the seed that fell.
And I arise again.
root ever deeper
into forgotten seasons
veiled by curtains
of rain and sun.
Whisper, leaves.
O, fallen hours—
muted by time—
stand again, chorus
your thousand
thousand voices:
I am alive again.
I am Here—I am Now.
I am the seed that fell.
And I arise again.
The Falling. Oil paint drawing on paper, digitally enhanced.
