a promise: the summer sea blows a gentle breeze to the forest’s edge
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between the summer moon and silver tide an ancient magic begins
gentle dreams of wandering in a wildflower prairie
the small one points at the sky and the star lingers a little while longer to watch her smile
humble hillsides hide dark clouds and winter’s breath for a warm night
the softness of your face translated by the music of dawn
the summer crow finishes night’s song
never merely existing the stone path understands its purpose
simply knowing when to sow and when to wait
the summer pond borrows its stillness from the moon
elancharan gunasekaran 