begin again.

hushed purples
fade a twilight of seasons
ebbs and flow-ers
sing

sing

sing

twinkle dusts aim and perceive
there is certainty
there is calm
in the very hollows of
cupped hands
waiting the arrival of so much more
wanderlusting listening
wonder listening
hummers
reaching out with the very scratch
of smooth mossy tree bark
lighting into a
dull sweet
mellow.

lrp.1.4.13