cross the lines down shifting lights,
catch it's breath a stream of life,
the tallest trees stretch to the sea,
and to the edge where shadows meet.

a quiet place and nature's way,
a [bad word] and whispers life,
still born again into golden dreams,
a Hiding place beneath blue skies.

cross the lines down shifting lights,
catch it's breath a stream of life,
the tallest trees stretch to the sea,
and to the edge where shadows meet.