raw

Sleep, my soul
inside thy buds
 inspire the old branches
and wait for his arrival,
ethereal and fresh, she awakes
a keeper of healing and growth.

Wilderness has the mirrors
to reflect my entity
in pure fragrances and raw springs
mystic natureprints,
the awe of varied creation
the mystery of tough wind
blowing on another side,
a gentle breeze.

abandoned,
somewhere between air and waterfall
a place only the heart knows
contented,
I am loyalty to authenticity
only a soul aspires.

I may be a poetess
a composer of words, they say
still I am a lightseeder
a bearer of love
a holder of the invisible,
with my penbeats I voice the divine
and I cup a piece of heaven
between my palms.

24.April.2021