Shifting the focus of death, remembering how something is when it was still, alive! Translated…
Knowing how, the end of the newly sprouted bud is withering away and dying, we’d still, longed for that colorful new sense of life just the same, we’d, held our breaths in, for the sake of the fresh green color, used every mean possible, to capture, that instance of, life itself.
The corners of the fields of vision, stayed that silent, rotted roughness, you’d stated, it’s, the remains that life had, left behind, without knowing, that underneath the roughened layers, is the, true meaning of, existence.
finally what they’re, able to, do…
So, we often, only focus on what we encounter in the moment, without realizing, that there was, something else that was, once there, that’s, quite different from, whatever it was we’re looking at supposed to be…