I think that a song moves back the waves,
while I comb the rivers of love.
Parted over in the east yester- years and we forgive.
I think that a song, brings me to my lavender -cedar memories and I moan, lon-ng
and I moan lon-ng.
A bridge though made of energy.
I think that a song, brings me -salted fire and I smoke it
holding my lungs in place.
I think that a song is more than spiritual notes- rather my fluid,
I am the song in the east,
I am the song of a river’s love.
I am the song of songs – time I start singing to me….