And my soul is quenched with your memory. My fountain of laughter and love.

The wind is a spirit that can't be broken,
Its an eternal soul.
It will travel the world for centuries to come,
And  carry Santa and his reindeer, back to the north pole.

I'm writing my feelings down,
to let people know how it feels to be me.

maybe the water will take pity on us
sending waves
to take me
*back to you

Describe yourself. Describe this world. Describe a tree. Describe an iPhone, a dung beetle, a circling vulture, a pill you swallow daily.

Things, millions of things, are occurring simultaneously around us and it is up to us what we decide to describe as note-worthy.

We mentally decide what is praiseworthy.

Strive to describe only that which is worthy, when we are surrounded by so much that unworthy.