Poems 2013-10-18
When great
trees fall,
It makes
such huge sound,
That as
dignified man, they tell of their passing.
Habitats
that lived on them have been signalled to move on.
Those will
stay with the trees fall and decay into the ground.
The silence
and the eroded tree marked another journey completed.
When great
souls die,
They carry
with them the best part to be offered.
They wait
for the fermentation to take place,
The process
to become one,
Together with the earth’s soil
When a ring
of our life has completed,
We become
restless and uncertain.
Waiting, in
silence,
Scanning for
the right climate and space for the next cycle to begin again.
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