A tear escapes from the corner of my right eye…
The sunlight streams into the room
And the illusion of summer begins…
“What do you want to be?”
Your soft voice breaks the chains of time
And gently reaches my sleeping ears.
“What do you want to be?”
I open my eyes with silent stares on your hair
Flowing like golden silk threads.
You appear to me again, angelic apparition
Your body is clothed in the shining white
And your hair is adorned with wild flowers.
You have plucked out a strange leaf
From aeons ago when we first met
And place it on my reluctant hand.
“What do you want to do?”
You ask again with patience
And you look at me with sincere anxiety.
I look at you with confused eyes
I open my mouth to speak
But the winds of silence break my voice.
Instead of a reply to your question
I look at the leaf with wonder
The soft feather leaf of the purest white.
You humble yourself and I feel
Your soft velvet lips gently touch my right cheek
I float on the clouds of divine peace.
The air picks me up from where I stand
I cannot see your eyes nor your nose
But I see clearly those soft lips of sweet pink smile.
I awake from my dream
The second illusion of summer
Takes its toll from the wingleaf.
Dec 18, '07 5:48 AM
for Miracle's network
The sunlight streams into the room
And the illusion of summer begins…
“What do you want to be?”
Your soft voice breaks the chains of time
And gently reaches my sleeping ears.
“What do you want to be?”
I open my eyes with silent stares on your hair
Flowing like golden silk threads.
You appear to me again, angelic apparition
Your body is clothed in the shining white
And your hair is adorned with wild flowers.
You have plucked out a strange leaf
From aeons ago when we first met
And place it on my reluctant hand.
“What do you want to do?”
You ask again with patience
And you look at me with sincere anxiety.
I look at you with confused eyes
I open my mouth to speak
But the winds of silence break my voice.
Instead of a reply to your question
I look at the leaf with wonder
The soft feather leaf of the purest white.
You humble yourself and I feel
Your soft velvet lips gently touch my right cheek
I float on the clouds of divine peace.
The air picks me up from where I stand
I cannot see your eyes nor your nose
But I see clearly those soft lips of sweet pink smile.
I awake from my dream
The second illusion of summer
Takes its toll from the wingleaf.
for Miracle's network
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