I look up and I see a trail, singing with the sounds of stubborn birds,
an illuminated beam of sunlight falling on the trees.
A scratching carpet of leaves form below, asleep for winter.
Colors materialize all around, warm amber and cool gold.
There is life everywhere, in all arrangements and stages.
We sense moving, an oscillating rhythm, a non-threatening ritual.
It is indeed radiant, blossoming and luminous;
In truth, it seems almost perfect
And yet, I am aware of something else here too.
We are aware that where there is light there must also be shadow.
Still nothing, no matter how beautiful, can evade that truth.
In this swirling world of intricacies hides a villainous adversary:
It is something looming, waiting in shadow.
Concrete and wires creep up out of the foliage, out of the life.
And we still mourn for the words, never heard,
Swallowed in this oblivion