Song of My Soul
The wisps and willows of the wind
Comb through my hair and invite me
Into that wonderful world of camouflaged peaks.
Equipped with nothing, imagining everything,
A wondrous song escapes my soul.
While the alluring mauve of the setting sun makes love to me,
None but the crow and the lark observe
As the sky descends on the flush of my lip
And moves me to ecstasy.