Pretty pink petals
Scatter a path
Through the trees.
Branches reach up,
Grasping at the sky,
Trying to pull themselves up.
The leaves are beginning to turn,
A single leaf dances,
Fighting its fate to fall.
A painter’s brush leaves a trail
Across the dimming sky.
Each colour blending into the next.
A bird chirps,
A river trickles.
Wind rustles,
The chill is biting
But not unwelcome.
It breathes life.
In a calm like this it’s easy to remember
To breathe in
And out.
And nothing else matters.
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 1:59 PM UTC
Pretty pink petals
Scatter a path
Through the trees.
Branches reach up,
Grasping at the sky,
Trying to pull themselves up.
The leaves are beginning to turn,
A single leaf dances,
Fighting its fate to fall.
A painter’s brush leaves a trail
Across the dimming sky.
Each colour blending into the next.
A bird chirps,
A river trickles.
Wind rustles,
The chill is biting
But not unwelcome.
It breathes life.
In a calm like this it’s easy to remember
To breathe in
And out.
And nothing else matters.
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