She is the dawn and I am the clouds she ever shyly tints.
I am the reflective explosions of colour as she
chooses where to leave her mark, I
am the birds first waking up after she rises, in
my world I wish to control where she rises and sets but
in truth there is no way for me,
no place for my to govern her steps.
I am a dancer, basking
ever in search of the right rhythm
that will unearth my urge to create.
She is that dance.
dance
Thoughts From a Tree 