The music has ceased
stirs remain from the dreamland
a sleepy voice asks what time ?
and looks for it's shoes
I had been inhaling words
in small sips for some time
and with a large exhale
a school of small fish
are returned to the wild
I always return
young and unbeaten
first sun
fresh snow on the mountain
I am the river
and this is my song.
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 1:30 PM UTC
The music has ceased
stirs remain from the dreamland
a sleepy voice asks what time ?
and looks for it's shoes
I had been inhaling words
in small sips for some time
and with a large exhale
a school of small fish
are returned to the wild
I always return
young and unbeaten
first sun
fresh snow on the mountain
I am the river
and this is my song.