‘…
But there it is! A distant recollection of the continuity of life in the footsteps of time, again and again in the same footprints, in the burgeoning weeds of spring with the song of new life flowing joyfully in green juices, in fragrances of a blissful contact, further off in the field, the asphodels sway with grace over the breath of the grass. …’ |
From the poem ‘Seasons’, by Ioanna Moutsopoulou Cycle I: The Lost Self To read the whole poem, please, click here to order the poetry collection ‘Souls of Nature’ (Photograph by Yiannis Zisis) |