Am I 'Absolute'?

123: To do with the world

Because the orange trees
And cobbled path
Lead me through my
Aching heart at last

~~~

Old caged trees flourish beside the weed ridden path. In everywhere to go there is a trail of soil and overspilling green of earth cracking through the plastic floor, climbing nimbly upwards in spirals. The golden left-over stickiness of a poster on a thatched shelter's pillar is falling away in the feral, fresh winds. A melodious drip rolling from the yellowing paint of the roof and splashing in the middle of two dead leaves facing in a circle with other. Many similar strewn bodies glisten in the recent rain, their parent tree clinging to its last brown children in the bright morning. It is only during the winter, when the limbs are empty, can a view of the open countryside glimpse through the thick boughs. In the valley of that countryside is a sea of grey, falling homes, their walls being slowly torn down by the weeds pushing through the cracks. In the centre stands a once proud building of white stone, it's silver cross barely glittering through the curtain of vines. Down the front of its face, it looks as though something dropped a large grey stain that hugs its cleanliness. Emitting from that stain and drifting up to the grey sky to settle again over the lands is a spicy tang that pricks beasts tongues and noses, the faint echoey taste of baobab shifting along this place. There is a flutter of drifting birds momentarily lifting to the air before gliding towards further unseen lands of rippling hills and swelling seas, of ending sands and innumerable tiny giants overshadowed by blooming clouds. Then a frail wisp of dusty light floats across the bough's view, the delicate strand catches another falling drip which joins and fades into a trickling stream, crawling past the old caged trees.

I wonder what it would be like if these family members walked into our world, stepping over the yellow line easily that we must stop at without entering their world.
These worlds within worlds
With doors like portals

The lands

~~~

I get lonely easily because I am me. Are you okay with that?

~~~

#>@Be3cause_£I|< am.+({more=$)-3easilyOX} •*%read* [,with'out] &,=€\£"my!;"/^:name^~?

^When we form assumptions without truly knowing someone^

~~~

     When the rains drown and the winds choke, we know what hasn't happened.
  When the trees walk and their roots breathe death, we have to find our mistake.
     When the light is black and the heat is freezing, we find our chapped lips bleeding.
  When the screaming silence and talking is wordless, we finally have bodies blistered.
     When home is unliveable and infinity ends, we are too late.

#save our planet