Memories of a Bamboo Forest

If I listen hard enough

The sway of leaves touch my ears

Streamed sunlight falls on me without divide

A walk through a slolam of shoots

A journey of curves of my own choosing

Pause, listen, remember

A lasting moment that returns

Just in time to level the balance and continue on



Compressed weight dissolves, yet contours remain

Yesterday’s imprinted curve, a travel down accelerating valleys with slow ascents

Level ground eventually reverts back, as if a butter knife slowly spreads sanity across my thoughts

At least until tomorrow, or the next time the ground moves beneath my feet

Layers evolve, differing colors, textures, depths, one on top the the other

Some blend in a comfortable embrace, others distance themselves, seeking a necessary solitude

A patchwork of what was, what I am, each a tree ring of the past, hidden within


Painted colors exposed to the sun

Rays of light as the sun falls behind stoic mountains

Smiles that disappear at farewell’s lips

Yesterday’s anger stemmed from words of passion

Memories that drift from view from an aging mind

Faded seasons, letting go