there’s magic in her eyes,
a rain of falling whispers,
a soul of golden waters,
a taste of sweet surrender.
there’s a dark cloud of longing
that hangs in her sky,
but she is the light,
a rainbow shining by.
a practice of patience,
a song of wishful pardon,
both occupy desire —
dearest daughter, be brave.
the path is kind of twisted,
the way is rather long,
but the road of yellow brick
has been waiting all along.
