Scattered beneath my feet.
On the other side of the road.
Into the grove,
I see barren homes that once flourished.
Now stand abandoned; whilst wind swiftly whispers,
An old tree stump.
Aged beyond measure.
Once a towering giant,
Today; cut with precision.
Incapacitated to no longer grow,
Ragged shards of raw inner wood,
Now blackened with death.
I intently observe,
The grooved bark of a tree,
Next to the stump.
The outreaching tree was,
Proliferated while the other did not due to death.
It grew around that cut,
Which was enough to cause death,
With limbs now outstretched towards the sky.
The realization swooshed,
And then swelled into my heart,
These are nothing but,
Circumstances are never same; not forever.
It’s mind over matter.
We can either be stumped in our lives,
Or, rise above our problems; cross the barriers of mind; reaching the zenith.
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