seth howard | late flowering

LATE FLOWERING

Wherever in the world we come to understand
Through grit and dirt, the feel of lessons
Learned, know that all we see is but a mystery


Subsiding after hours, long ago, I knelt beside you
Offering flowers, before the sun had set, knelt
And all we get for free, subsiding, deep in memory
Felt further, naught but what we see, enter
Solitude, bring forth ghostly entity, and what entails
Of further studies, games we played


Ruddy faces, telling what we know was true
That sliver of light, enter decrepitude of ages
Hence, one last glimmer, climbing over fence
When all we know is true, soft as memory
Silent I fly to you, when all we feel is
Approximate, appropriating what is new


Behold, our wishes fallen years apart
Our sorrows, swiftly wishing, dreams


All is art, mystery, you fear the future
But admit, that all this wonder
That surrounds us, is but a flicker
Awakening us with a start

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