and imagine that you are there,
still words and phrases,
embers to the nightfall,
echoing...
across the land of dreams.
do we continue still,
massive forms unto ourselves,
like the pearl of winter,
damaged and frail ?
oh how sweet the voice,
like burning tulips
in the meadow,
up into the airy breeze.
you are a child of mine,
warm hands,
tiny, beating with the heart,
i listen for an ending.
oh how the tree grows bowed,
unto the earth,
in prayers song,
i am one onto myself,
i am with the last wind.
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