The restless wind bends the leaf-heavy
branches,
the clouds in white
come and go
across the pale blue,
and the golden disk
lost somewhere beyond them,
in the deep depths of space
blazing
where another wind
blows,
ceaseless,
to the rim of its realm.
The mind takes the sound
of one
and leaps
to the latter,
rides it to the edge of the solar system
- that's the power
of imagination
fed by knowledge and nature.
07.06.2025
Verse Poetry Poems Poem
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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