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| Thursday, July 2, 2009, 3:38:36 PM |
 We travel down these separate roads of life, gathering our flowers along the way , to stop and share in the ` music of their fragrance. We exist between two winds, I here under a pale moon you, the other end of a sunny somewhere , as yet I have not seen ... At times when the wind blows and I hear it rustling softly through the trees. I pause to listen and in its passing hear the tenderness of your voice that whispers to softly fill the empty spaces . now I am left listening to these whispers of the wind watching the stars shine up in the sky, silently waiting as I am holding the sunrise in my pocket.  |
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