I am the voice

The whisperer through the flowers stem

The mile high eagles gaze

The heartbeat of the creeping mouse


I sing the wind

Roll on the hard coasts rocks

Growl in the mountains heart

A molten fire of gold



Light and quiver swift

I dance upon the spinning leaves



Deep and dark amber

Liquid muscle of the rivers flow


There never was a time

When I was not

Nor will not be

Coming with me

You already are.





Voice – by Jera
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