I have seen him, he sleeps
In the depths of my deepest roots.
I hear in him the strength of my tenderness,
Like a seashell, murmuring sleepless lullabyes.
I know he;

He of the winter smile warming fires,
That would caress the child of the breeze.
He can hold the world in his gnarled fingers
And withstand it's beautiful sunset, over dawned.
I know he;

He that can slide from me a tear,
And let fall a thousand thousand angels
That he keeps at hand;
All in the instant of arrival
To this mortal plane.
He is;

And ocean-darkness eyelids of his close
In a reverance, a subtle light rolling over.
And if I were to be lost in his eyes,
I would be safe.
He never will;

I know it in the depths of my deepest roots
He is not meant for the subtle pale hands.
He is the forever, for me.
He is a garden, who hides in a glacier.
You can't;

You won't;
He can't;
He....
is.

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