Without a sound, without a face;
I walk through the forest with grace;
Maybe a smile when I see them;
Maybe something else if I am at a different end.
A laughter when I dance with the wind;
Butterflies and faeries and birds along every stream,
It sparkles of purity and turns me witty;
Flowing in...the knowledge of truth and reality.
There comes the city;
Quiet at times except in times of festivity,
Yet, somewhere...it radiates a form of tranquility
within the moments of stillness of time...
and breaks when there is the taste of lime;
Life...step...steps...being more and more refine.
With Stillness,
J44