Thursday, May 13, 2010

Two years ago there this flute I held
in my hand and music
And if anything changed that is not me
but only seasons and a cluster of faceless clouds;
Natural; nightingale sings from this green forest
of mine very close to where earth belongs
in rain filled soil
not very far from the valley of spring
where flowers wild bloom, wind pure
there this light so luminous reflects
on life and paints there the real hues
bright in orange….

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