The dendrites of branches and roots
hurl at me sparks and dissent.
For all my perilous treaties,
They trade me an elaborate lens.

Pondering the past and lives that might have been lived holds a certain metaphysical power. One can fall in love with the very essence of a time and how it forms in the mind. But it does leave us longing and empty handed in the present.

A truly wonderful write, Daniel:) Your imagery as always is just superb:)