Grasping something unimagined
I stand here watching,
as a mighty oak,
rooted in this now
coppiced but defiant to be.
Kingfisher shooting past
red, blue, raiment of fragmented colours
Bulrushes sway lightly in rainy mist,
imagined as candle snuffed out,
ephemeral transcendency forming portal to a reality unmet.
Crunching and snapping of leaflitter and spent twigs underfoot,
bring memories of bygone summers, misty hazes and fruitfulness,
now deathly grey, gloom,
food for the journey, new life.
grey, bland, and boring plumage,
loud honking, move, now, urgent as alarm clock
Soundings of a world grounded in, yet grasping the edge of something unimagined.
Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.