As gentle as a fresh bed sheet falling on a shoulder, a new day breaks. A whispering heart, a new start. Old patterns disappear invisibly, like drops of water in the sink. In you, I trust. A willow on a rainy day guards a long forgotten chapel of another age. We all belong somewhere, some day.
Friday, 12 February 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment