Transcendence

The branches are empty as the birds have flown.

The tree still hopes for new nests to be sewn.

 

The night has passed and it's time for the dawn.

Yesterday is there but the shadows are gone.

 

The sky turned blue and the warmth has grown.

 Clouds are there but brighter is the tone.

 

The person is same and the body is old.

For all that matters, the soul is gold.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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