by atma anna christ
Soft skin under my fingers the rose breathing in essence
praying for the seemingly impossible the direction into total loss
Into oblivion into reality into manifestation of unknown forces curving my past
Anticipating future relics into parallel time line
mocking coincidences knowing the impossible
Trained in patience the lady seemed but it was a feeling of redemption she was missing
elegance slipping into my fingers satin white fragrance dying slowly emitting the resonance
of the ultimate healing in a place of people unable to walk or sing as a matter of habit
the healing you have been asking is here now…
Thank Gaia 