Ink Stained [Poetry]

The Becoming

Trees sway
Not a care to follow
As the wind howls into the horizon.

Flowers glow
A light in the field of grass
With the sun shinning just above.

Waters trickles
Down streams off the mountains
Draining into a river of rocks and soil

Butterflies flutter
As the wind guides them
To a place no other will bother.

Ground shakes
Signaling a danger
Of the world above the ground.

Wind howls
Of the becoming
Of a severe weatherly storm.

People cheer
At the game held before
A moment held to keep troubles away.

People cry
As the world comes crashing
And burning in the sight before them.

Love flourishes
In an unknown place
Becoming a substance much more.

🌹