Waiting for: …

And there was true snow over there
Ghostly liquid nowadays seems so rare (and we seem so rare)
The mountain side whispered “safe journey”
And threading began, little hopes of ever returning

…where does this little mountain end?

Borrowed was a safe-stick to lead the way
He is I, I am he, together we Life portray
Thoughts may come and crumble inside
On a lonely box in mute-silence they’ll confide

…oh Rosa how we need to L*ve…

There’s a sweet place to call home
Concealed in bright sunrise’ colours
Somewhere a lady arrayed in indigo (blue…)
Waiting flowers to never call ours,
Head held up high revealing the unbound sky (is it really mine?)

Will never have anything mine, for I’m owned by my own Life

A clean blanket stained with a stern reprimand
As mountain smoke is inhaled at the river’s bend
(Like)Upward Pisces scaling a longer travel’s root
(Always)Near the abyss waiting for undying truth

…when does this beautiful Life begin?

Days that traversed this forgotten road (so old)
Shall remain as imagery shadows forever untold
Need to sing, to swim and fly (so high)
The Earth is too small, my reserved spot is in the sky

…lend me faerie’s powder to dream my own Dream

There’s a sweet place to call home
Concealed in bright sunrise’ colours
Somewhere a lady arrayed in indigo (blue…)
Waiting flowers to never call ours,
Head held up high revealing the unbound sky (I fly…)
Will never have anything mine, for I’m owned by my own Life

Waiting, Waiting, Waiting (for life to begin)

n. ego