What if days were berries growing bright, whose sumptuous juices blossomed only in Summer? How sad it would be – such limitations, disrespectful of the
Tag: age
End of Day
Sun blazes before it falls, slashes the day’s sky – blue guarding against blaze. Golden grasses absorb the fire, brazen in their clay-baked fields. Branches
Creating
Winter – the colour of my hair, a sedentary state of being, the numbing over of ambitions… These are but illusions… I am fluid, essence
Filters
Age masks the depth and breadth of ability – houses more than anticipated room for expansion, however; current state of disrepair – walls buckling, wiring
Plateaus
The quest for love an uphill climb, the footholds loose and failing Scrapes heal, and hearts yearning begin again, forget the falls, aspire Unconditional love
