We strive to understand another
from the shallows of our mind,
passing in the street, like strangers;
the stories of our made-up lives
sprouting thickets round the heart –
the only true compass by which to chart;
as wind does to branches,
or tides do to land,
so love does to humans.
I walk amongst tall trees
listening to their subtle songs.
The years merge together;
as two silent hearts once did,
their moment wrapped still
in the timelessness of nature’s arms.
I watch a density of dying leaves
in the fall of a dance:
natural dervishes whirling, free,
as we humans cannot be.
Time keeps us miles apart
from what is and is and will always be.
October 2021