Saturday, December 02, 2017

Seeds



You were always fond of flowers and one of my daydreams revolved around you taking interest in my beautiful garden that had roses at that time. Now the dream is gone; so are the roses. In a totally different terrain, I try planting seeds of hope; but everyday they are dried by the scorching sun and the cruel winds of habit. This dream will never be, I have discovered in these months of despair, when each seed of hope have brought more tears and more waiting.

No comments:

Notes to the Self

Note 4 I sense an epiphany when I think of how humans have imposed a sense of time over the endless days on this planet. Time stretches ac...