Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Traces of Green




Come closer. Lay your head. Now close your eyes. And listen:
These are the stories that you will tell when it's your time. 
Traces of green embedding winter's slow, hushed whispers 
And memories of amber skies in prime.

There's so much movement in this silence
And so much love lies in this solitude - just like a spell.
Listen: there is a tale in every fragrance; 
These echoes are the stories you must tell. 

Look past the end of rainbows and forgotten sorrows;
Feel all these blades of grass pushing your palm, 
And find the stories born from the despair of no tomorrows,
In all these hidden storms that live within the calm. 




















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