Happy and smiling,
Creating and writing,
Stories of fantasy trees.
And on Sunday, a joke I couldn’t believe.
Fragile beings with a creative purpose,
Yet we burn the beautiful life around us.
The fire takes root in our bark,
In these flame-filled moments, we don’t speak.
Looking out from pulling away portals,
Leaving this world to the mortals.
Do you sense the beyond?
Yes. You are surrounded by mother’s mystical trees.
Happy and smiling,
Creating and writing.
