Fresh is always out there, it breathes in what we can not touch, a winter’s morning, a summer’s blue sky, and sometimes it comes to greet us, passing beneath a waterfall, the warmth the sun upon our face, rain to cover us beneath its liquid jewels offered to gravity. As friends, companions, cascade through our lives, they too are fresh to touch, to breathe in their splendour, and to share in the moments in each new, each fresh day as it gallops toward us, to pass us travelling in the other direction, to our fresh lives forward momentum, a future always worth reaching for, to touch…..

4 responses to “Fresh

  1. This lovely one corresponds with your charming comment to me a while ago. I envy your poetic eloquence compared to mine as I have to sweat for days just to come up with a single line that can pass up for a verse. πŸ™‚

    I’m delighted to see you’ve been writing a lot, Sean.

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