for your freedom, my wings suffice. From my mouth shall rise to the heavens that which lay dormant upon your soul.
In you resides the hope of every day. You arrive like the dew upon the corollas. You undermine the horizon with your absence. Eternally in flight, like the wave.
I have said that you sang in the wind, like the pines and like the masts. Like them, you are tall and taciturn. And you are sad, all at once, like a voyage.
Welcoming as an old road. You are peopled by echoes and nostalgic voices. I awoke and at times birds fled and migrated that had been sleeping in your soul.
