Lovers

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todays bird
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

if i look back, i am lost
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Janaina Medeiros
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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

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Sade Olutola

titsay
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@lauramakabresku
Lovers
I listen to Your whisper, and burn with the fire of Your love
Lovers
dusk is falling something is creeping through the deep snow
For several days now, a snowstorm has held sway. Luna leads me up the hill. We walk very slowly; the snow lashes at us, wounding our cheeks. Our legs sink into the drifts. At the very summit we meet the Poor Man, frozen through. He seems sorrowful.
To draw near to him, to look into his face, I step onto a bench and rise onto my toes. Yes—his face is deeply sad. I think that perhaps he is cold here, and alone upon the hill. I take off my scarf and offer it to him, so that he may enfold himself in it.
Birds fall softly into the winter hush. Here, where someone very small walks uphill, pulling a sled. Now I understand: countless angels keep vigilant watch over his solitude.
Return Home
At the forest’s edge, I encounter light, and a herd of deer wandering through the winter stillness.
Through the winter’s cold, I hear the beat of your heart
I hear the hush of mighty wings, I see shadows gliding across the hills
Luna and I stood utterly enchanted. The great eye in the sky gazed upon us with gentleness, enfolding us in its light. That encounter reached the very core of my soul and permeated my entire body with a silent meaning.
At the edge of the forest
At the edge of the forest,
in the heart of the blizzard,
the black dogs howl
Luna ran close behind me.
For a moment, we lost him from sight.
I was afraid we would never find him again.
We reached the edge of the great forest.
The Poor Man sat by the fire, warming his hands.
We drew nearer.
We stood very close to him.
I could hear him breathing.
In silence, we watched the tall flames.
A snowstorm gathers on the horizon