Just realised we have some very random things arpund our home. I will share some at times.
Here is the first, specially for the death obsessed. 😉
He is lovely when he gets on with his thing!
~ Another petal, another poem.
A twig falls out the tree
Catches my eye
Toward another white petal falling
She flips over in the breeze
When another cloud covers the sun
Another cigarette ends
Receiving a shadow as time passes still.
Hope is found in anticipation.
Once the anticipated has been met we are left with hope lost.
In this cycle of emerging ourselves in hope for what is or may come and finding ourselves lost upon each roll of the dice when our desires are either met or blocked, it is then we learn to know and face our greatest hope.
Death. Living. Embracing that we are dying, and dying knowing that we lived and live on in all that we anticipated.