Which take me back in time
Or is it forward?
I don’t know
Is this the dawn of time?
Or apocalypse?
The beginning of life?
Or the end of it?
Is this the dawn of time?
Or apocalypse?
The beginning of life?
Or the end of it?
Were I to climb out
Upon this leafless bough
Would I be
Of Lilliputian dimension
The misty grey
Becomes a canvas
On which I create worlds
Heed artistry
Inscribe wisdom
Apply passion
Until they are taller
Than I
Until they are taller
Than trees
Until they are taller
Than mountains
Not to prove
That I am bigger
But in homage
To what is bigger
Than I
A single flower
Still held in bud
Though petals fall
Onto the pond
They tarry there
Before they sink
And come to rest
To where they’ll feed
Next season’s bloom
We’ve gone as fast
As sound and cheetahs
Slowed down time
To see a bullet
Sped it up
To watch grass grow
Some see superstition
And irrationality
I see a deeper wisdom:
A belief that the world
Should be made beautiful
To honour the spirit
Of existence