I lay my head on the fingers of trees
To the wind I feel serene
To the sun I hold my dreams
In a fresh flesh
I hear the birds build its nest
O’er lush trees, close to the sky
Birds are sacredly free
With the colour of spring on its wings
Befriend the nature, but not the preys
Fresh flowers near cold water creek
Build the gate for the journey
Of water, scattered leaves, grass and creatures
To the places which earth only shares
As only tales
Novia, 2016
-Poetry Prairie-
Poetry Prairie 