The Tales We Hear

A verdant valley stretches far and wide, Veiled in the mist of a golden horizon, Bathed in the rays of a rising sun-- Behold! It is akin to the garden of Eden! But they justify poorly, these eyes. And; What awful description a memory makes. One has to live wholly in the moment, For there's no telling a tale as exact. Through space, time, and circumstance, To search remains our truest nature. The tales we hear are a mere enticement-- An ant showing a trail to another. -yfa