When the wind brushes against the windows, the sunlight halo settles on the green grass below it
There your voice will be, as subtle as the rain that falls in the evening grey, so calm and timid on the blades of the small churches
And when the wind goes away, the crunching of the dead leaves will be your steps, as you walk eternally through your wooded kingdom
You have become the princess of the forest, you have become the spirit of the animals, the protector of the trees
The flowers bloom as your eyes, the petals the color of your smile, the stem your arm reaching to hold me close
You have become the infinite universe, you have become the stream of life, that river which flows through all of our mortal bodies
Never will I see the sadness upon your face, for you will always be in the majesty of the pines, the grace of the weeping willows
The fox will be your words, the orange of it’s tail the hums you will sing all along through those woods
And when I find myself in the tendrils of darkness, weeping hollow tears into the palms of my hand
You will be the moon, shining on the crowns of the trees, singing me a midnight song in the silent solace