Life chases through our veins
so much the same, to find us
so soon golden expressed in different ways
as if a visual melody, even if silent
as if in each other we meet ourselves,
an opus despite all the cement sound barriers.
Truth confesses our lives shall survive the fall
as if our roots cascade seed by seed.
Sad the remnant when all that must remain
is a hacked stump unforeseen.
May we wish instead to be each the returning leaf,
near as others, in this forever forest
that never leaves.
Joe Bisicchia writes of our shared dynamic. An Honorable Mention recipient for the Fernando Rielo XXXII World Prize for Mystical Poetry, his works have appeared in numerous publications. His website is www.JoeBisicchia.com.