to watch a child gaze on a fallen leaf is this the birth of art what myriad of new beliefs does such intercourse impart? Or is this moment one of science in not the what but why is all but new philosophy caught from the unseen skies? It matters not I find myself the question moot becomes for science, art, philosophy are in the leaves as one.
as I write I watch leaves fall though these lines aren’t for leaves at all within these words I will impart my love for you in autumn’s heart to carry on through winter’s cold even as my heart grows old this verse will bloom as if spring new as this rhyme’s reasoned season’s you.
I look not on the stars in wonder but the space they’ve torn asunder for there is peace where no star sings in the darkness everlasting, Let them shine and pulse and burn have them glow in every turn yet in the black infinity is where my dreams are meant to be.
this mind allows no clarity troubles hide beyond the light I see the world in abstract hues a harvest moon obscured by night uncertainty moves as a cloud across skies that were once clear and truths that shone once like the stars burn away as do the years, thus unsophisticated rhymes become as journal to the lost, the memories and once beliefs these years of waning moons have cost.