raise my spirit to be like
flying to delve my soul in the bends,
to revive my senses in the yawning
to dig the shadows and fog. Enthroned
my song springs to remove the fluid filled with gold, light and silence
souls living in the mist-covered.
sensitive souls like a river
fertilize the banks and leave us the freshness and whispers,
in the broad areas of life.
Flight paths
words left to get drunk in the wonder of remote roads, marshes and deserts
bathed by the beautiful wings of butterflies
.
Where is heard the deep voice, whispering
lovers, men and women in
mirror reflecting their fates, their boldness and their desire. Where the wind
also sings about mountains and lakes
landscapes of my dreams and forgotten world.
Rainy days with weaving of wool as the crystals
let her tears roll drops.
Where the rain and its sound, cradles as always, from the earliest times
the same room where
stopped waving the fireplace and only the embers smoldering remains of
arm off. Where the word
walks on the mystery nude skins
becomes love and light, sadness and nostalgia pouring like rain
cheer for every sunrise,
where you can breathe the air time as a crucible
integrates new songs this morning in
eternity in which I live and my song distills
poetry that humanizes and makes us wonder.
flying to delve my soul in the bends,
to revive my senses in the yawning
to dig the shadows and fog. Enthroned
my song springs to remove the fluid filled with gold, light and silence
souls living in the mist-covered.
sensitive souls like a river
fertilize the banks and leave us the freshness and whispers,
in the broad areas of life.
Flight paths
words left to get drunk in the wonder of remote roads, marshes and deserts
bathed by the beautiful wings of butterflies
.
Where is heard the deep voice, whispering
lovers, men and women in
mirror reflecting their fates, their boldness and their desire. Where the wind
also sings about mountains and lakes
landscapes of my dreams and forgotten world.
Rainy days with weaving of wool as the crystals
let her tears roll drops.
Where the rain and its sound, cradles as always, from the earliest times
the same room where
stopped waving the fireplace and only the embers smoldering remains of
arm off. Where the word
walks on the mystery nude skins
becomes love and light, sadness and nostalgia pouring like rain
cheer for every sunrise,
where you can breathe the air time as a crucible
integrates new songs this morning in
eternity in which I live and my song distills
poetry that humanizes and makes us wonder.
