Sunday Musings

Sun is hiding behind glimpses of grey. Through the window naked trees, their bark covered in green moss, seem frigid and grisly. Their bird less branches leafless, but debris of broken nests and feathers remain. Forgotten by mother birds who's fledglings have long flown away. (those that did not fall from the nest or became prey to predators) Isn't it interesting how our eyes see things differently? I see so much change whilst sitting in the auditorium of Autumn. In this season of diversity some admire the beauty, whilst others see death and destruction. Seasons can be a reflection of personality and character. Which season are you? Do you know yourself? My Dahlia heart has never been a lover of the cold. If I could sleep like hibernating squirrels, or fly to warmer climates like migrating geese - I would - I should - If only I could. Yet I feel it would be selfish to leave my mother bird - so I sacrifice my own happiness - but wait patiently for permission. But, I'm struggling to sleep among lifeless souls. My eyes perturbed by fake guides with false words. Scorned minds who believe everything they see and hear, plague me with their false prophecies - why is it ok to burn some nests, but there is an outcry when yours is damaged? Are some fledglings more valuable than others.... Tired from the injustices of life, I ponder do we ever learn from the lesson? Revenge and retaliation are never the answer. Hypocrites with blood on their hands should not cry for peace - one life has no value over another - nor does colour, religion or gender. Yet we remain lost in the disorder. Seasons change, but some minds remain the same.. Simple Sunday Musing. 10 December 2023