I have no regrets
but I worry.
I worry that the choices I have made
for which i had no alternative,
may have brought the end.
And while each end brings life
one still mourns the the forest burning
each tree, a memory, dying
to give birth to the new.
What can I do
but watch it burn,
cursing my own inability
and praying
that the spirit of the forest may yet live on.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Though the forest burns, it can re-grow and thrive again. Time heals all wounds.
Post a Comment