Lets
L ets sit under the shadow of our tree in this vague crepuscular haze and contemplate as we did that day, the water of the river tiptoe its way down to the sea unafraid of what it could encounter... excited for what it would see. Lets surrender again to the wind's shy eloquence and listen to what it has to say when it brushes our hair as it did then. Perhaps the same bird that sang that afternoon of sweet illusions and fears conquered will our story tell only today, it will sing about the many... Sign in to see full entry.