Which world do I live in, moving in and out, swept and calmed by the waters around me.
Being engulfed and floating above. I go with movements of time.
Seconds, Minutes, Days, and Years and I’m still here.
For how long, I don’t know. It feels all so permanent though.
Everything changes with the seasons and yet each time it’s new.
Eating, working, and playing in my years I’ve seen so much.
Friends, who seemed to have it all, lose it all.
Love blackened and blued, leaving so many scars unhealed.
Wealth eaten by an appetite for more, making living a day to day game.
Everything changes with forward hands and yet each time it’s new.
Mountains unshaken, streams flowing, and air moving.
It seems they will remain the same, but they change too.
Neglected or cared for, the erosion, the pollution are all to real.
Turned away or toward the sun, the darkness and light go on.
Everything changes with night and days and yet each time it’s new.
About the Creator
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After the Storm
After the storm of winter snow there sat a small bear by the name Ted, of course. He loves the snow and likes to roll around in it making all sorts of trails and whatever he has a mind to do. He wondered where all the people are, but in a way, he is hoping that they are all snug in the homes maybe drinking hot chocolate-one of his favorite drinks with mini-marshmallows and eating something homemade for he likes this winter wonderland all to himself to romp and play and maybe even catch some fish down by the river.
By Mark Graham4 days ago in Fiction
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