Revealing the Sons

Come Home

Looking for the place
where my heart knows it is alive

Everything fades
All is forgotten

cleansing, refreshing, wave upon wave of washing goodness

A symphony of color and light. A tapestry of sound.

whittling away that which is old and revealing that which is new

the keeper of all things green

The one who hears the secret silent whispers

each day beckons for new discoveries and wonderment to beheld

crafted by time, by the winds of change, and time’s erosion

fanciful flight in morning’s first light

breaking through into realms unknown and unseen

to whom can be given the legacy of the ents