The hills are alive with a soul of cheer
Clouds part in the wake of the past's treasure.
Forgetting the rain, foraging the trees,
A great river is born out of the mist;
leading, winding, brimming with life in tow.
Breath beating in the rhythm of nature,
eternity can take a rest one night.
It's you in my arms that now makes me whole.
No comments:
Post a Comment