Come with me, where the birds sing sweet,
on a pink-kissed sky, as the blue fades from the eye.
Awaiting the stars as the seagulls pass.
No tide of time will grip,
as we slip into one,
where nothing and everything began.
These aren\'t days, it\'s just illumination,
from dark to light in the cycle of life,
acoustics to the silent.
Frequencies and energy make it vibrant,
drifting from passive to the violent.
Thoughts under a sunset in the garden.
Knowing to see, for a moment,
where it\'s golden.
Inkadelic-Dan
The ink remembers what we forget ☯️