The red of newest, maiden mountains parts
For purple fragrance in the sleepy sky,
For time has lost its deepest urge, and thinks,
And thinks, amid the golden light that slips
From deepest rift in cloud-enfolded sky.
Archive for December, 2005
“Is it time?”
Adim leaned back against the hard veins of the tree. “No,” he said slowly, feeling the life pulsing through the tree as he did so. He looked up briefly, into the golden-green eyes of the Watcher. “I don’t think it is.” Silently, the sunlight glowed through the leaves that intertwined over their heads. There was utter stillness here, in the clearing in the heart of the most ancient forest in Barac.
