Gaze past what is, to see what once was,
at the dried-up leaves from the springtime buds.
See the sunflower stalks from earthy seeds,
and memories reflected in the fire a Soul feeds.
Purplish, grey sky with smoky aged air,
where rain clouds linger above landscapes so fare.
Whispers of stories told by the wind,
of shimmering Stars, that have long since dimmed.