softly, you stroke me during the nocturnal with a dark seraph's
whisper.
across time, your presence slides into my thinking.
during this persistent present, i feel you Watching thru the looking
glass of days unborn.
unable to reflect, helplessly i howl, only to hear the silence of your
calling;
~sssilence~
as The Time's echo haunts Great Spirit's feathers.
`T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova