Morning dew wash over ivy tendrils
that almost went unseen hidden in leaves of emerald green
The beating of Her heart is the surrounding
Improvisation that seem so perfect
with Silence and Birdsong lulling and bursting in sweet melody
I’ve been here before,
I thought
as I reach for my daydream
Is this what miracle looks like
SitaraAlaknandaShakti (c)
