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Born of the Earth, set to the Sun Purposeful life, there only is one Or so He thinks, the sprouting Seed, Blind in the wisdom, of his own Creed. The light throughout is owed to He, For even the stars grow His young Tree Some One was heard, some Thing was said, Fear now stricken, the Once Bright now dead Hurried to save the path once knew, Forgets the others, Who made He true Follows the Light into the Dark, There, surely, will be made this new mark “They will look to me, from below, Ready to die, just to see me grow.” His mind consumed, his world run, Those once loved, He started to shun A strange Eagle, birthed to the tree, Flies to Her perch, so they both may see “Who is You?” Whispers the Bird Takes to the sky, not another word Ponders Her query, stuck be He Who else to share with? The lonely Tree “Where will I go? Who am I from? To Who’s magic Beat, is My great Drum?” From all the way up, a Bud falls, Hitting the ground, He silently calls, “Too early in life, You are Gone, A flower you’d be, only by dawn” “You are Mistaken, but not wrong I am near your roots, where I belong. Born of the Earth, set to the Sun No one is dying, We are all one.”
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Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 3:18 PM UTC
The Reattribution of a Beautiful Life
Born of the Earth, set to the Sun Purposeful life, there only is one Or so He thinks, the sprouting Seed, Blind in the wisdom, of his own Creed. The light throughout is owed to He, For even the stars grow His young Tree Some One was heard, some Thing was said, Fear now stricken, the Once Bright now dead Hurried to save the path once knew, Forgets the others, Who made He true Follows the Light into the Dark, There, surely, will be made this new mark “They will look to me, from below, Ready to die, just to see me grow.” His mind consumed, his world run, Those once loved, He started to shun A strange Eagle, birthed to the tree, Flies to Her perch, so they both may see “Who is You?” Whispers the Bird Takes to the sky, not another word Ponders Her query, stuck be He Who else to share with? The lonely Tree “Where will I go? Who am I from? To Who’s magic Beat, is My great Drum?” From all the way up, a Bud falls, Hitting the ground, He silently calls, “Too early in life, You are Gone, A flower you’d be, only by dawn” “You are Mistaken, but not wrong I am near your roots, where I belong. Born of the Earth, set to the Sun No one is dying, We are all one.”
#love#life#beautiful#tree#gone
Written by
pbward
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 3:18 PM UTC
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