Intuition at it's finest when feeling the seasonal changing of its metamorphosis is coming ahead. A foreseeing truthful measure of action (over the wonder of its own inevitable evolution).
Feeling of observance is nothing without attitude (in it's very self to bear alone), when it's never alone... Except, when all in not well within its favor, because that's when things change in the way it's ought to be. And not because it's an entire consequence (all on its own little lonesome), without truthfully knowing of the very actions that surmise the difficulties straight out from under its own opposable..."developing pleasures!"
See the colours Vibrant hues Look into the mirror, it's you Paintings on the wall How far did you fall Before you realized you were changing And not just rearranging Welcome back to you Dancing bright and true Unhaunted, undaunted Clear and breaking through With the spring I've sprung anew So much I wish I could undo Somehow I'll let it go A set of seasons done and gone And now I'm moving on
I thought we were once so close, knit together close enough to know what's it like, to be ghost to each other, yet wandering out into our own colourful way of life, just that we are chasing different colours now.
colours change, seasons change, people change, yet I remain the same.