sefaef
Season of Stillness
The sun is lostÂ
Barren are the trees
My fingers like their branches, are numb
I see visions of my body underground
Breathless, still, naked
Slowly becoming dirt
Sinking, unfolding, expanding
A home for the wormsÂ
A cradle for roots and seeds
A basket of riches
A promise land
In this dream I not the king, no
In this dream, I am the kingdom
