Pretty bird, come perch upon my praying hands. You are like a happy, hopeful prayer that ascends to sacred skies and, like prayer, your song seems to call upon the dawn.
The sun shall ever find wherever sorrow hides my heart; my heart, the hilt her bright blade gleams upon and side by side, the sun and I, split hopelessness apart
THE OLD AND THE YOUNG 1) Why the young must embrace what is old - We are all children of the earth, who is ancient and when we are close to her and open to her then we embrace the greatest of our gran