Reality of me that was and is

I: Beauty

Poem

The purple flower dreams green thoughts today,

as leaves are lured out from their pots to lay.

And sleep these nights

to fly like kites

in low lime light to flow fine end.

Story

The Flowers sing here in the sun, and the leaves that fall from the tree dance; the forest decays as the music touches the sky. Above, the sun sees the sight and weeps for them tears of sorrow and joy.