Aug 2017
I am not
what I foresaw
Among rainbow-colored
lands askew with fruit ripe and seeping
springs wallowing on ancient forest loam
I used to dream of the sky
Now I lay upon nail beds
destined by shadows demanding
legacies foretold by soothsayers
with eyes clouding against the present
I am nothing
change is something
Was I ever
something
what I foresaw
Among rainbow-colored
lands askew with fruit ripe and seeping
springs wallowing on ancient forest loam
I used to dream of the sky
Now I lay upon nail beds
destined by shadows demanding
legacies foretold by soothsayers
with eyes clouding against the present
I am nothing
change is something
Was I ever
something
Abstract thoughts on a steady change I've noticed since my youth. At some point, I dreamt of spending my life within the confines of the unimaginable. Now, it's difficult to even imagine the unimaginable.
