To the park, I went, the other cold day seeking some inspiration. I happily forced the pushchair against the wind and pondered on the sudden change into a scenery of winter. My son was wrapped up like a Christmas present and enjoyed every moment of the visit. The red leaves blew a singing tune and wet mud soften feet and drowned wheels. Trying to be a bit more creative, I took my video camera. But that creative smile was swiftly slapped of my face when I came home to realise that I cannot upload any of the images. My laptop does not have the right connections. A few days later and I am inspired by my visit. This is the outcome of many.
Sleeps...
It sleeps amongst the sounds of dogs voices and play
And bathes in the sky drops and dries soaked in sun rays
Year after the year the seasons slips by
At each ending it sadly whispers a goodbye
A goodbye to another symbol of growth and change
Of new beginnings and endings and wasted dreams
And births and deaths and life
That still keeps on ticking and running to places unknown
It rests so gracefully like a soft dancer performing in its sleep
The winds cannot penetrate its cold remains not within
Still it is strongly rooted in history and clothed in wisdom
Wrinkling a interesting pattern of age showing a life transforming
I watch it and smile at its creativity its longevity
Its ability to create such thoughts to mind
With words that has recorded
A prop in the backdrop of lives that continues on through the years
With no passing thought by others for it
Eyes just seeing for what it is
Not digging deeper and wondering about this old bit of tree as sleeps
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