Ephemeral moments and eternal echoes

 

As the late afternoon fades into evening,
the sun sets behind distant violet hills,
casting a cold yellow glow.
I sit by my window,
capturing the last rays of light to write to you.

For me,
the word "love" evokes the aroma of fresh ink
and the texture of soft paper,
like a newly penned poem.

At times,
I feel as if time pauses for just a heartbeat,
and the world halts its motion.
In that fleeting moment, I swear
one might experience an eternal existence.

I find solace in winter and fall,
where the landscape's bare bones reveal
its essence—the loneliness, the desolation.
Yet beneath it all lies an untold story waiting to unfold.
The sounds of melancholy resonate on summer nights.

 

 

And is it me or is this my special poem in a really long while?

 Enjoy!