ThePolishKnight

intuition bird, sing bright the dawn as blooming secrets fall soft on mosaic stones; our gentle vines creep wild as wind, a wandering metamorphosis: winter caterpillar, spring cocoon, summer wings twinged and falling into flowers before reinventing destiny harmony garden, keep parched and persevering; this world will stop one day to water the seeds with why, and was, and maybe someday could be-- for now, nature watches quiet as sun-dust butterflies collect drifting souls like wishing stars