We travel down these separate roads of life,
gathering our flowers along the way , to stop
and share in the ` music of their fragrance.
We exist between two winds,
I here under a pale moon
you, the other end of a sunny somewhere ,
as yet I have not seen ...
At times when the wind blows and I hear it rustling
softly through the trees.
I pause to listen and in its passing
hear the tenderness of your voice
that whispers to softly fill the empty spaces .
now I am left listening to these whispers of the wind
watching the stars shine up in the sky, silently
waiting as I am holding the sunrise in my pocket.
