and what is it that sings your name, but the song itself, blooming in your heart, bursting the dam between freedom and bondage?
whose words form your delicate beauty and the softness of morning sliding through the autumn trees, gathering in the tips of the flowering grasses, igniting lanterned reflections burning the end of summer into your eyes?
Reading, this turns into some kind of listening, words blur, some kind of music remains, shapeless images, colors, colorful. Sensation.
Beautiful. 💚
oooh thank you <3
Clouds, rain and the light of a poem♥️
morning beauty
these songs that sings us and echo in the winds that dance through the canyons of love and no things at all, uncaptured yet unbound
and what is it that sings your name, but the song itself, blooming in your heart, bursting the dam between freedom and bondage?
whose words form your delicate beauty and the softness of morning sliding through the autumn trees, gathering in the tips of the flowering grasses, igniting lanterned reflections burning the end of summer into your eyes?