Et digt / A poem: Within the moving leaves.

In the silent morning,
I walk
Along a twisting path.

The trees whisper an ancient song,
from within the moving leaves

The sirens are calling,
A call that crashes,
Crashes upon deaf shores
cries Poe’s Raven

Along twisting paths I walk,
In unison
With the voices within the moving leaves.

Join the newsletter

Sign me up for the six-day micro self-care course and also send me the latest news from Heartbased Living by email!

1 kommentar


%d bloggare gillar detta: