Seeds of Decay

Summer in its heights,
And distant waning,
Can speak to inner senses,
Calling forth
The seeds of decay,
But not of ugliness
In the outpouring array
Of the hidden colors
That give way
To the secret power
That goes inward,
Where those once great giants
Become sleeping totems
Of power,
Going further down
Into the core of things,
As a reflection
Of the self,
Forming and waiting
To rise again.

8-6-13

Reviews

[Playing with Demons]

This is a beautiful piece! The title is very intriguing definitely draws the reader in. I can feel the power behind this poem.
Cheerio!

[Thomas Kainaroi]

Thank you!