Clouds dance over the darkening skies,

to the sound of the river's flute.



A voice from over the mountain cries,

and sings songs of sadness in tune,



in tune with the leaping doe of spring

their tails a clean cotton white.



and the birds are quiet, listening,

to the sounds of the oncoming night.



The lilies drift under the suspicious moon's eye

a twinkle of starlight fades fast.



A weeping willow sheds a tears and a sigh

at the indifferent stream winding past.



Loves unspoken weight the air,

with silver waves of heavy emotion,



a lilting plead rings out like a prayer,

dipping and ascending in the waves of an ocean.


 
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