listen and i will take you to a place where my name is not my own
the houses there miss their families and the clouds are an excuse for the sky
run with me through iridescent fields that move like laughter and chase our shadow in happy madness
every stone has a story and the nightengale sings in crystal shards
every story is newer with the telling and every newborn remembers their past the books dream of ancient forests and the windows remember the sand dunes of their elders
the moon glows down and is shaped by perception and the air is placed and counted in the hand
lay me down with a tom waits lullaby and send me off with a magnolia prayer for this is my song a song of ending
The captivating music of birds and the enchanting beauty of roses have, each in their own right, inspired people around the world for as long as anyone can remember. How the two combine with the challenges faced by a struggling writer in Georgia to c