I hear you whisper,
call me back to the quiet spaces
between the dream-flute's mesmerising song
as the dawn shifts into a deepening
blue, a time-lapse of growing sunlight
rippling through dark waters,
echoing through stone -
there is no other voice
but song, a feather on the air,
a heartstring on a wing,
a drummer and a dancer and a ringing bell -
"Just follow the river and see where it might lead."
I must keep writing,
stay on this path that has no map,
no direction, just a glimpse
of steps forever winding upwards
towards a different kind of life.
Outside, the world beckons
with a wink, a smile, a kiss.
Wings Over Waters 