Musings 18


The yearning to re-visit
those years where we hadn't met
where we didn't know we existed
to the time when we weren't us

Where the trees silently saw us grow
They grew with us, nested birds
saw them fly, to see them again
to see the leaves, come and go by

In those hours of nostalgia
where future was being written
the past was being shaped
In those hours, can we meet again...

 

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