Sitting, I watch the limbs bend in the breeze, and cower in the storm
In my numbness I watch the light succumb to the night's darkness,
before the darkness yields to morning's light
So how would I not feel and know another's truth?

I remember the time that I watched the fire consume the forest and its fringes
Today I party with the new baby greens... how is one ever more beautiful
than the other?