Sunday, May 3, 2009

Arrival

The forest is gently swaying and creaking. I can still see across to the opposite slope, but not for long – the leaves are nearly half cast. The trees have awoken and authored their dreams in this surface world of space and form. The branches are reaching out to taste the air and join the wind. The warblers’ calls fill the empty space that wasn't there until they sang.

No comments:

Post a Comment