Paths of silence and
Noise of the breeze,
Crimson halo and golden leaves,
Swaying stars and rigid trees –
These were the things of my humble quiescence.
With floating ice.
Fuzzy gaits through hardened eyes,
And dwarfed hills,
These were the elements of a prescience.
Visage of novelty,
Visions of reality –
And the wisdom of paucity.
And wavy talks –
Smooth tresses and thought out caresses,
All were the moments of temporality.
Dreams ashore with honest chores,
Wonder where the wanderers went –
You returned just to find them anchored –
With broken chains of human vitality.