A Journey Back To Ourselves

as i stare at the
rain
i remember
trees

transparent and
cold

trees without
leaves

i imagine
twigs

or roots or
trunks

they are never
there

no matter how
trees are tears

without leaves
without roots

with so much
salt in each

and then you
touch the waves

of the imaginary
sea and then

your journey back
to you begins

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!