The wind fans the grass, like a thousand tiny fingers
the air all around has scent that lingers,
Is it really you?
The cawing of a winters crow
spotting food on the frozen ground below,
Is it really you?
Anger rises in many guises
and fills us with vanity
and often insanity,
Is it really you?
When we experience pain
and then and then we gain
a broader outlook, on life's refrain.
Is it really you?
Searching forever looking
for meaning, and seeing
in travels that life can
be so demeaning
Is it really you?
The sun gleams on the dew
of a spiders web, lonely feelings
begin to ebb.
Is it really you?
A rainbow arches high above
a dim reminder of forgotten love
Is it really you?
Warmest regards Michael,
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