And how can the
trees
not weep
for their
fallen leaves?
The ceiling was
too white
and the lights blinding like
the white luminescence
that signifies
death
but you
did not fear.
You were
a bird in flight
unafraid
of that which
you did not know
and always
wondering
always thinking
you had little time
to talk,
your mind
was like a stream
that ran too fast
to be caught
and no one ever
needed to look
to see you were away
trapped inside
your very
thoughts.
you believed that minds
like angels
possess wings
and though they
seem stationary
They fly
to far away places
in
the span of
a minute.
But you also told me
that some
minds
seem to have weights
hidden somewhere inside
that drag them down
deeper that
the darkest ocean
to the
depths of
insignificant invisibility,
and further
into the arms
a thousand dying
constellations
that never
cease
their singing.
