Delve deep, roots of my inner life, intertwining with stability.
Branches ascend higher, than I can see from below...inviting wind to come.
Water passes...memories rush by withstanding my grasp.
Slipping through my fingers, washing over my grip...all is vain.
I am a tree that finds itself in both places at once.
In time...the moment at hand.
In eternity....the moment that has not yet come.
In memory...the ghost that passes.
In hope...that which swells towards me, untamed, unseen.
In reflection...the leaf that floats off in traces.
Fruit comes even as the taste fades.
Seeds they fall...hope for tomorrow,
unsown but plentiful for chance to find.
-Eric Blauer 12.07
2 comments:
Ooooh, I like this.
Dad
fruit from the root, shade for the soul and dew for the tongue -matt
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