She slips through the trees
A vesper, twirling twixt
Clouds lined with golden rays
Of sunlight, desperate to
Break through, shine on
She laughs though, a silent
Yet entrancing voice
And she swirls, graceful
Caressing all she passes
All sway in her presence
The strongest are weak
In her embrace
So when the wind blows
The cradle will rock
Rock a bye, rock me to sleep
Studio B
- Mark
- When you need to wake up in the morning, and set the right mood for the day, when you need to escape from the overwhelming everything of life. What do you turn to? How do you describe your core without speaking aloud, without having to talk to someone about it? This is how. Music. Lyrics. Poetry. Do you feel it? Do you? It's here, it's everywhere, locked within you, within the most tone deaf of us. It's begging to be released, become unleashed in a tearing chord, a crying melody, soulful harmony, dying lyric. You feel it yet? It's concealed here, within every word that I write. This is my release. I want you to see it, to feel it with me. This pure expression of every tangible and imaginable emotion known and unknown to man. To me. Welcome to The Window.