My forgotten song...

The forgotten greens still whisper
the notes of the song I sang to you in sleep.
Love, it meant.
The forgotten greens still whisper

the verse I wrote every night to the star

I would talk to. laugh with, surrender and weep.

Trust, it echoed.

My song, is not lost in the tight sands of time.

But, today there are so many masks on your heart, 
that my song will neither reach it, nor rhyme.

I write my song in this paper ferry.

It will swim in these currents.

And then these waters of this stream will have it,

take it to the ocean crust, when into the sea this stream will go.

And in the end when the ocean crust melts in some trench, creating new fold mountains,

My song will rhyme forever in the tears of its pristine spotless snow.

The bride in the prairies...

The bush in this grassland sleeps,

as if timelessly.  

She knows this musical breeze.

She knows its going to rain on her soon,

And these prairies would go green again.

No, she does not need a raincoat.

She'll have it all.
all the blessings from the sky.

photograph borrowed from https://www.pinterest.com/pin/475833516850905506/