Whispers and white clouds

If memories could speak

And converse as us

Like the whispering trees

And faded skies above

Which hollow into reds

And above dying leaves tread

Down and across old paths of time

Then we as humans

And these beings of part

Once separated from the whole

Would never seek

To see another sky again

Out of blissful pain seeking

Rememberence missed

Instead our eyes are foward

Not back