Until

You look deeply into my eyes and lie to me-
Straightforward and bold, not caring about the truth
Until it comes up when you wish me away.

We laugh, we run, we fly-
Staying in the air despite what brings us down,
Until the humor and energy dies.

I wake up to your memory-
But am haunted because I’m alone,
Until you rush back and remind me of you.

I hang to every spoken word you send my way-
The good and the bad blend as one,
Until you remind me that all of it means nothing.

Long time no post...

I find something extremely poetic about the fall and winter. The leaves all in different colors, the trees cold and lonely. I think everyone enjoys the bare leaves to some extent. They are like us, right? We grow, big and strong, with great, bright green leaves. But, as time moves, we change. We change into different colors, different people. We lose our old ways, and find new ones. But, that tree...

That tree is us. We are lost, lonely, cold, we have no protection. We expose ourselves in the snow beaten winds. That vulnerable tree still manages to get attention, though. Even without its personality and beliefs, bystanders stop to look at it. Stop to observe the trees' beauty. No matter what season it is, people still have an overwhelming attraction to trees.

We have to be a tree, in some sense of that though. Well, we do not HAVE to be that tree, but we should WANT to be that tree. We should possess that beauty whether we have great, big, green leaves, or none at all.