(To Eliseo Pastrano)
Giants grow large and tall,
To reach the clouds in silence
And watch the ends of the earth.
Cradle a seed, a life at a time.
Like angels, they set off
To fly across the land
As they race with the breeze,
Bringing life far from their homes.
Touch the heavens alone—
One leaf at a time,
One memory gone each time.
Giants grow old and ill—
In silence, their voices became the wind.
Photo by Dan Cook on Unsplash
© 2020 Onie Maniego and The Paper Drafts
I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out... View more posts
