You see something that's beautiful, so unfettered and so free
and you yearn to know the secret, behind possessing such beauty
So you catch it in your netting and you pin it to the ground
Then poke and prod for hours, until its secret has been found
You examine it so closely, always wanting something more
Until you slowly start to notice its golden blood across the floor
You rush to find its heartbeat but find silence in its place
And a realization hits you as tears slip down your face
That the secret wasn't hidden because it wasn't there at all
It was the simple act of living that had you so enthralld
That you'd spend your whole life waiting for you beauty to be shown
But in wanting someone else's, you had failed to see your own.
Mother Winter
Its always possible to start over.
Beautiful day, not feeling well.
