a flower grows in the place we did not meet
seeker's song
winter wind tastes of the cold dry snow!
the river is not still, though burdened with ice.
to the sea i will go, in search of your gift.
what you did not say, i cannot hear,
yet the echoes of your voice are now heard.
the forest has a way of speaking, does it not?
a flower grows in the place we did not meet.
by what force it grows, i do not know.
there is nought but ice, for a thousand leagues.
it will be a long journey still, i pray a good one!
the colours of the last flame may give eternal light.
to the sea i will go, in search of your gift...
words and photo (C)2008 by _lacrimange
do not reuse or rewrite without permission
