10-27-2009, 01:01 AM
I spent hours watching leaves detach themselves from trees
Doing exactly what their namesake of a season suggests
I felt the warmth of the sun and was at home
amongst the trees as they shaded me
The presence of such life that is always actual
Immalleable to the wills of societies or the desires of
We insignificant things who believe in our own importance
I am at peace when I belong to nothing
When I am unrecognised as being an entity trapped in flesh
Alone, in the world without words, there is another language
you can hear it on the wind, feel it in the breeze
As they speak to me or you with rustling ancient voices
Welcoming us into the places they would call their homes
The places we interlopers dare to go
Tresspassing int the realm of ancient eyes and life and experience
Shh, hush and listen to their cries carried by the skies
Let them tell you of their hopes
Watch their leaves wither as these silent philosophers ruminate
The meaning of a world we can only imagine
Ask for their knowledge, their understanding
And receive their warmth and love as you harvest them to build
Your homes, furniture, play pens to hold the life you dare to value
And remember, all that lives dies
And all that dies should learn how to so gracefully as they.
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