Guarding the hours altering; their changes: My prey.

Fogcovered - AWAKENED!, rising - Dawning now lifts itself
swiftly roused, opened in the lightsoaked halls in the forest

and all night is missing - for a moment, - again.


(Worries bite - a burden lingers on.)


Wandering up all the Path’s aged, burnt in, yearsteps,

standing upon flowering field islands,
leaving by my withering footprints

and catching torn thoughts - when spoken my heart clears, - to remain.

Life’s heart, our hearts; are born matured.


So return, come you who listened, know the qualm cleanhearted;
on hate’s and gladness terms here allowed to tenderly intertwine
with the lighthearted - maybe sorrowfilled, enlightened Sun’s routes.


I am proven - when your shivers go cold, - if you wake up.