A single tree
Stood in a golden
Swaying wheat-field
Shimmering, noble
Aged with time
Between the blue
Sky and the brown
Earth.

As a gust of
Wind blew
And the green
Leaves flew off
The boughs
Of the tree
Like a flock of
Birds in a swirl.

Over the fields
And breaking waves,
The stone light house
With its luminous
Light sprayed by
Droplets of the
Foam-flecked
Salty sea.

Over the
Darkened
Grey horizon
With the jagged
Lightning forks flashing
Ruined and abandoned
Halls filled with shadows
And memories among the
Dust and spiderwebs of
You and me, of our
Fleeting yesterdays.

Yet the
Majestic tree
Remains bold and
Resolute,blown by
The winds of time
Between the golden
Fields and the
Blue sky.

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With a digital drawing from Nikos Laios

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