Friday, January 10, 2014

The fact is,
A dry dead oak leaf fell from its tree,
Impaled itself on the tip of a hazelnut branch,
And got snowed on.
Why does my mind see beyond?
"Like diamonds on old leather"
Posted by poetreehugger at 11:44 PM

2 comments:

  1. AnonymousFebruary 21, 2014 at 12:16 PM

    Hi Hermina - not exchanged words for a while. I do like this photo and the poem. Image - does image spark the imagination, or does imagination manufacture new images? In this micro-image expounded by the poem there is a lovely correspondence between what we see and what is actually there, between what is, and what we think, and hope for. Thanks for this.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. poetreehuggerFebruary 21, 2014 at 4:32 PM

      Hi, Jim.
      And, if I I hadn't turned my eyes just at that moment, or hadn't taken the time to...imagine?...daydream?...I would have missed it.
      I'm not sure if the imagination manufactures, or receives...

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