I will meet you
where the sunlight
sleeps upon the
white mountains
where the birds
circle the sky like
angels of innocence
and as you pass
through stubborn
villages that keep
ancient secrets
locked in their hearts
listen carefully to the
echo of their poetry
all will become clear
and our destination
will be necessary
we will find the moon
hiding behind clouds
like a shy child
and as the cold wind
bites at our lips
our words will
fall into purity ...
Clay.M