It needs life to see beyond
the narrow strip of black and white
and time which ages snapshots and
pages to differing shades of sepia
it all fades into blues and greys
and on into the white of nothing
below the surface
lays the hidden passion.
The dreams of journeys on
paths just waiting to be written
and horizons longing to be
gazed upon then, stained with
indelible ink upon the yearning
in our soul.
If trees could talk
they would tell us of how much
pain and suffering it took to
grow each circle and each line.
Of how they learn to bend without
breaking and how they know
that to bring
about new growth something
has to die
yet, still they keep
reaching for the stars
Perhaps they know that everything
which exists is neither
black or white
but, is instead
a painter’s palette of
colours of creation.
© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved
Thanks for for images at Real Toads. Liked them all but this one seemed to ‘speak’ to me