Description: Trying to suggest some purpose in things that do not seem to have any outside of their natural functions.
Only A Season -------------------------------------------
Frosty breeze creeping in from the cellar and the cracks underneath the doors
this chill has invaded the area outside my blanket where my toes poke out
Sleep will not leave the corners of my eyes as this morning dread persistently drops chains down around my arms and ankles, binding me to the delicate layer of warmth I have been laboring for all night
There is more sound to a whisper than we will ever hear
a thousand waves breaking into the air around us like drops of water in the sea
A season only lingers for a moment
My considerations grasp for meaning in the natural realm
I sincerely believe there is purpose in moments such as these described here. Perhaps the greatest details were those described as inevitable, the season arrives and delivers without permission or concession, and in doing so introduces entirely separate functions with subtle purposes all their own.
"There is more sound to a whisper than we will ever hear
a thousand waves breaking into the air around us like drops of water in the sea"
Does this insinuate all the efforts of the season we are unable to see, hear or feel? That only so much depth or fascination can be applied or given at once?
Thanks for sharing, I thought this was really well written.