In the morning
At the first hour of dawn
A seed is planted
And sleeps and sleeps
As if in an eternal slumber.

At noon
It breaks forth
Into the open air
Springing up
Reaching towards
The sun.

At dusk
A tree has grown
Its flowers filling the
Emptiness with sweet passion
And then they fly,
Away and away
Like the tips of angel's wings
Reaching for a
Glimpse of heaven.

When the shadows lengthen
The leaves begin to
Crinkle and fall.
Silently, silently
And then the world is enshrouded in gray
While love and memories
Both fade away.

The clock strikes midnight
Our time is near
A split second
Then life disappears.

But several hundred years from now
A gnarled old tree stands
And in the shadows
Below the carving
Of lovebird joys long ago
Two children play
Like memories of
That fateful day.