silver fish of winter carry fragments of the moon downstream
you can feel it in the winds and in the smell of the rain after the quiet designs of spring
snow covers the incantation and roots memorize the syllables a druid plants a spell in winter
cocooned in miasma and enchanted smoke where dragons lay in eternal sleep the lands experience radical change and evolve without hesitation
pyres by the coastline burn with altered moods
rooms fill with the echoes of half-truths and to divine by the light is heresy
recognize the struggle of tides on a moonless night
someone far away accepts your magic and feels lighter
maybe you do feel it like i do the warmth and gentleness in our bones
winter at dusk if backspaces could erase the soul