In fog and dew the morning breeze is parting through.It finds it's way towards light reys
contouring the horizon.
It moves to where the voice,
so barely audible is heard.
I hear the song.
Is it wrong.. to imagine the refrain
before it's sung?
Sun song. Wind Song.
I long to hear the song that other's ears have heard. Bird song.
Rain song.
The sweet lips that utter are none other than my own , pressed against your cheek, in remembrance.
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LVX, LLL,
10-11-2007
Blue Nile morning musing
...all mixed up with Rubies and Seaweed*~
