Voice
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
Bright
Light and quiver swift
I dance upon the spinning leaves
Slow
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.
JERA
Voice – by Jera