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Click hereWhat hides beneath bedrock
and creaky grey silhouettes
amid viridian mist in quiet echoes?
Consider the fallen,
hawks who sing above the reef
"we are the tears that fall from sunbeams".
" Our moisture breathes its mist into
the body of the ways of weirding
so maidens of élan may
drink their fill from life dancing
at the foot of the moon".
The cross changes it offering
as united dreams
drink from the well of a lighted womb...
a visceral offering in a sense. the mood of the piece captures me......nicely done......don
winds of change...what a witty pen you have..
I bet it is blue <grin>