She Wakes As spring awakens and wanders through the valley's, her breath will recreate the warmth lost during the wine of years. With such tranquility, there follows a profoundly silent rage that intertwines itself into a mold of passion, slowly recollecting the vibrancy in soft spoken words, they are forgotten only until the robin recomposes her morning tune as slowly as she was hatched, the Lamb was brought to slaughter, because it is Spring and that is when old life is sacrificed for new. Isaiah's chamomile and Luke's chestnut trees twist their roots around each other's, becoming the foil of all goodness and faith that is rooted in the flowered field of humanity, its loveliness precedes her craftsmanship, carefully intertwining youth into age and beauty to intellect slow at first until all at once, the four become one. |