I touch the timber
and smell my hands. Jacarandas...
When the divinity
lived in you, I scrambled...
It's not just the miles that you might travel
But the sights that you visit in between...
When you left, I had
covered my mirror not to...
In a vibrant forest green and alive,
Two trails met under the radiant sky...
Whose woods these are I cannot say,
Their laughter rings from far away...
A whisper in the breeze, a dance of golden light,
Informed me that the season past...
Amidst the chill of winter's parting sigh,
The first of daisies dare to dot the glade...
As winter's grip begins to fade,
And snow surrenders to the blade...
As winter's grasp begins to wane,
And snow gives way to gentle rain...
Whispers of a season anew,
When winter's reign is almost through...
In the quiet hush of winter's end,
Where snow once lay, now flowers ascend...