The wind rummages through the branches of a stand of aspen. A burden of soft green bends low to the earth. The music from a choir of a thousand murmuring trees rises on the afternoon breeze, interrupted only by the faint hum of a passing plane. I sit and witness the passage of time, growing older with each second that briefly announces itself, and then is no longer.

Yesterday I belonged to the exclusive club of youth, but time, jealous as a spurned lover, surreptitiously stalked and then claimed me, just like everything else she fixes in her cross-hairs..

Long ago, life and death entered into a gentleman’s agreement. In the moment they paused to shake hands, I became doomed to roam the desert like a lonely bedouin, seeking asylum in someone else’s eyes.

I am forever running towards the moon with open arms, desperate to embrace its cool, silvery light, and forever singing to the stars, crooning the only lullaby I know.

I confer with angels, but they never reply.

I fall on my knees and my prayers travel heavenward, borne aloft on the wings of butterflies. How can I truly know anothers desperate longing unless I have first plumbed the depths of my own? How can I ascend a mountain of hope, when my feet are still mired in yesterdays valley of doubt. How can I soar on the wings of love, when they have long since been clipped by life’s cruel circumstance?

Truth is a lamp capable of lighting even the darkest corners.

I have yet to decipher the language of the wind or lyrics of singing trees, but one day I am certain I will crack their code.

Love is as fickle as quicksilver. Ethereal, and weightless, it flees into a waiting biosphere.

Night arrives on stealthy, silent feet, and yesterdays ghosts huddle together in dusty corners, gossiping amongst themselves while pointing crooked fingers. They have yet to realize they belong to days long passed, and therefore wield no power.

I’ve been falling like a cold, grey rain, banished by a disturbed darkened sky. I fall and fall to the ground in exaggerated slow motion.

My tribe has long since perished.

I’ve been claimed by the brotherhood of trees.

I like it here.