Old trappings blow through the fingers of the wind
Memories cling to bare branches
As the ivy curls braids
And ties bows.
Winter sharpens the breath of time
And the cold cuts steal
Geese shout songs on the wing.
Through darkened days
Foxed and etched
Light is a silvered mirror-
A reflection of who we are
And who we are to be.
The focus shifts
To stir the soul.

Beautiful!❤
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