future past

hope and dreams are here, and gone,
yet here again, as the leaves turn,
returning to green, and then red,
like oceans calm, shifting to
become turbulent, rocky, saying
hello, then goodbye or so long,
yellow arises, soaring o’er the
skies, to fall, though unmoved,
shapes appear, twinkling above,
a hunter, a pot, a belt, vanishing
without sound, black clouds
hover, crying upon the land,
chasing beasts, leaping, feeding,
caring for their young, nestled
beneath nature’s whisper, bedding,
resting, til the jagged canyon
rims show their faces, a babe
cries, and we are returned.

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