My old house

A big, old, wooden house decayed slowly
as nobody cared for its walls,
for its roof
and for its foundations.

The garden around the house turned wild,
fruits got lost
and the footpaths disappeared
underneath the green cover.

One day strong winds came to the garden,
blew against the broken walls
and made them to collapse
one after the other.

A huge cloud of dust flew through the air
as the sun and wind occupied the space
where the house stood before.

The dust was settling slowly,
slowly into the wild garden.

The sound of the falling house
was still resonating
through the space
when the new small, fragile flowers
appeared between the fallen woods.

Growing in the wind and sun,
more and more flowers were coloring the ruins.
The dusty garden was getting slowly cleaned
by rains and winds and winds and rains.

Flowers grew larger and larger
and colors new to the garden started to appear.
New life was growing up
nurtured and cleaned from the falling dust
by the winds and rains.

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