I hear it as jazzing sound
And see it as a breathing sigh
The snowfall and its white feather down
Both light and bright as a once darkened sky
The distant stars drowned out by the day
An aesthetic row of these ancient books
To hide is not part of the mountains way
All it takes for this one is a look
And I am lost beyond horizons
More cold than hollowed ocean nooks
Just as the breeze brings gifts
And rgis wish by a field to sow
I hear and see all this alive
And about you I wish to know
That it was
Truestory