Searing lines lace a valley’s rim.
Mist forms and rolls across deep skies.
Wind and hail rush the weathered trees
and dips their bows aside.
Motions swirl, pluck and play
bringing to life, silence.
Rays pierce through and break
and the tide of sheeting’s mist clearing moments
trace tomorrows gains.
The waft and sprays of flowing streams
the cascade of pine needle shade
allude to forgottens lost dreams
and shower its expression with never agains.