Buds emerge one by one, their blossoms the face of summer.
Clouds move swiftly, captured by currents, invisible yet strong. Birds silence their songs.
emotions circle, begin their drift down into colors compelling, arms lifted in embrace
how many colors can we count in a day…forever shades unfold, following growth and change
reflections brim in puddle drenched skies… a girl, freed to fly
the days of youth, with hours to kill, lands to explore pockets full of treasure
Birds fill each morning with song, their notes a backdrop to the rising sun.
Look up, for the light is leaving, another chapter closing. Trees stand as witnesses, wise with knowing.
Moments flow by, some captured in memory, most lost. The days of flowering are here. Will I stop to drink in this minute, this morning, this day?