Delicate Life

Can we?
Because only alive are we forever.
Is nothing death?
Our means;
It, though even, changes.
For so long, we plants are animals as seasons
All of beauty, the transitions
Me, with sunlight in relaxing wind
In shivering shadows
And light.
The gray and green me, a round life.
Delicate, with waving pages
My chilled face, my eyes open
My life.
My open eyes
My face chilled
My pages waving
With delicate life around me
Green and gray, the light and shadows
Shivering in wind
Relaxing in sunlight
With me
Transitions, the beauty of all seasons
As animals are plants we long so for changes
Even though it means our death
Nothing is forever.
We are alive only because we can die.

The End

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