You hold the world in your hands
And you gaze at it in wonder...
A pretty blue bird flits
From tree to tree...
a rose as red as blood has bloom
and birds have come to see it now...
The silver of rivers
The smoothness of stone...
a mountain
turns into...
My rose
Sings to my soul...
Upon the edge-wood
I ride against thunder...
Spring arrives and leaves appear on trees,
Warming Sun kisses wanton skin...
Grey feels heavy, it's depressing
the air is weighing on my chest...
Nature is anxious
awaiting springs arrival...
chips fly through the air
on a Winter's beach sea breeze...
beneath leathered glass
majestically swimming...