the paper white sky
to bright for my eyes,
whispers of things that are half broken,
the thousand years lost in dull soft sleep
in the confusion of living in a dream, within a dream
yet there is the ungentle wind catching me in its grasp
its cold and dry songs remind me of life,
the warm and fragile.
as the coarse rain, shifts and bows with the wind
tugs me back into life, with the whispers of my beloved's voice.