Monday, March 17, 2025

Roots of the truth*



 Roots of the truth*


Do I ever falter in a life already foretold?

There was no past as the present unfolds

But to be here like an oak tree and its roots

More of the external dissolves, becoming my own truth

Because of this my eyes turn the other way to see

And notice from this truth, it all points back within me


Dom*Colucci 2013


No comments:

Post a Comment

Wind, a forced entry*

 Wind, a forced entry* A wind blowing day, is outside my door Whipping all around but don't know what for Maybe it is to show its streng...