Whispering winds call your name
from yesterday,
Over rolling hills and
hot red sands,
down through Ancient Cities
of the Ocean Blue, and
up to the mountains
carving the sky.
No stars are touched though.
No Universe in sight.
The blood sizzles red in the sand, as your body burns in the oasis of the Water.
The Son rises each day,
so does the Daughter.


2 thoughts on “Within

  1. Mike Crape says:

    Nice verse for this Sunday morning, thanks Tara.

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