There are shadows on the wall,
they sway back and forth.
A silent dance, they nightly play
as a bird flies by. Overhead,
seen only by imaginations
as it cuts through toward its nest;
an interruption not taken lightly.
All motion stops.
It is renewed,
only when our fears are relieved to see
branches sweeping in the summer breeze.
this. is. beautiful.
ReplyDeleteit sounds professional :)