No memory prepares us for Cassiopeia in the now leafless night sky, or for that moment in the moonlight when a shadow crosses the forest floor, an owl overhead.
November. Trees spread their seed, set their buds and open the sky to the stars. Returning home under this full moon I am one with the universe.
Sky full of stars,
heart full of tears,
love for the world
lost all these years.
zphx 20161113
No comments:
Post a Comment