This Is Real
A cloud that blocked the sun slides on, And leaves outside my window grow In contrast; deeper shadows dawn While bright, reflective greens I know From childhood sparkle once again, As branch-tips tremble in the breeze; Quite suddenly I feel the when Of my existence. Shall I seize The day, or let the days roll by? The more I grasp eternity —the more I know that I will die— More I welcome life’s enormity With open arms, and looking back I marvel at my stunning blindness, Now succumbing to attack... Sign in to see full entry.