Oft in the deep wood,
Deer run...
Whiteness in my heart
I avalanche from winter...
..so hear my plea, of mans misdeed,
to help our world, no more to bleed...
While delaying gratification,
you stripped-down...
Night-time grieves; an emptiness in the skies,
the ebb and flow of the sea comes to rest...
A serphant spoke to me
in between dawns blooming flower...
Prisms heave upon broken shores
Ready to break open the doors...
I once saw a vine.
It was creeping and clinging...
Living,
in the wounds...
An oak made friends with
the swallows on crying skies...
With a delicate touch of her smooth finger
running water becomes crystal memories...
The season has come
To sing lullabies...