Spreading wings dispelling dark Dawn gently smiles. Skylark, Robin and Thrush accompany the rhythm of the river. Their music always takes me back.
Back to when Oak trees breathed mysterious rumors in solemn tones.
And a footstep in the Forrest could be any sort of thing.
When the dragons voice would seem to say, with breath that ebbs and swells, witness me. I am with you always.
Beside a dark mountain stream I kneel and wonder, are the Sidhe still here.
A small splash near where I pause and memory recalls, it is said that frogs are their sentinels.