Time/Pine-less

A pine in the wind:

If I lend my eyes skyward will it fly differently?

It tangles in the wind and suddenly,

It's just me and it.

The facade of stone behind it,

How many have seen in front of such, as I have,

The flutter of the child tree,

Lost to time and memory, and yet still.

If I weren't to remember it would

It happen the same way to another?

Or is it a miracle of life's futility:

That memory of pine lost is gone reeling too.

It is with this that I forget all I have ever known.

The forgets are of another life, and I shed them;

I have forgotten a meaning in itself,

And I watch the eye of the needle engulf me.

As if from another I watch myself lost to the world

And I fall, wholeheartedly, into the void.

Time passes, all stays as it was,

In its eternity, a pine in the wind.