May 1, 2012
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It starts out small.

A tiny drop of gold on the horizon,
But as time cascades along its course,
There is room for growth,
Aided by the pouring blue sea in which it swims.
The golden seed of light expands,
Now casting out branches,
Stretching into the sky,
Without limit.
The branches form leaves,
That fall apart and pale,
White with age,
To drift along the sky,
Destined to fall upon the earth again.
But in different form,
To rejoin the seed,
And start the cycle again,
That had been set in motion,
Eons ago.

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