In the midst of time...
A mighty warrior rises....
A new choice,
Beyond naught an agency
Of thought...
Living...
In trees, in forests
In mighty rivers we dwell.
Sleeping and being reborn
From a localized seedling.
Again and again,
The cycle repeats...
Not much to think,
Not much to dream.
The tide of time
Waits for none.
A million trees,
Fading in dreams
Gone by...
Families and friends
Passing by like shadows
In a wild storm
In a thick forest.
Not much to dream,
Nor much to think.
Beyondness has no meaning
Beyond a certain point.
No one to look after
No one ask...
Freedom seems to become
A poison ivy.
End
Note: All images used are orignal, and enhanced using AI tool
https://creator.nightcafe.studio/
Stay Blessed