the
black earth
beneath
our
ancestor's feet
are
the
winding
roads
built
by
our
spiritual souls
the
path
is
just beginning
we
do not need
signatures
nor
premission
to
move forward
towards
our destiny
the
roads
beneath
our
ancestor's feet

yes
the
road
is
our
the
inheritance
towards
freedom
to
color our dreams
yet
to
keep
hope
hope alive

love
is
the
quiet
frost white
snowflake
parachuting
gently
to
the
ground
but
didn't
make
­a sound
through
the
aspines
and
the pines

gliding
on
the
pulse
of
the
wind
through
earth's
atmosphere
again
are
the
sea-t­ipped wings
of
the
sandpiper birds
thus
returning
back to shore

deep
inside
of
the
carbon
hourglass
are
slices of
quantum
spacetime
time
and
it
may not last
for
the
time travelers

with
the
promise
of
God
while
raining
down
sweet
cherry blossoms
oh
what
a
gift
from God

lord
i
don't
know how
but
there
is
freedom
at
the
edge
of
these
sweet clouds