We’re not suppose to remember everything… we’re human,
nor are we here without a purpose.
The sound of the Sun
as it moves across the Sky,
and how the Stars are born,
bursting into rivers down
around our feet.
Before our first breath,
and directly after our last,
and in a few golden moments
You didn’t break in and steal all
my gold, nor make a bouquet of
flowers from them…
For in the seam of the river,
the Mountain Ash reflects well,
where you can see the blossoms and where I… I can see you.
Audio recording: Mountain Ash.m4a
(Something a bit different …)