Longer Days Now
The whispers may be frozen
in the leafless, sleeping trees,
as dormant seeds of hopes and dreams,
now stripped to harsh realities.
But your heart can sense the pulse --
the oft hidden yearning tears,
trapped in pristine soul ice
and mem'ries of dying years.
View the Tiers of Sakin'el,
which still run free and clear
in defiance of solid mist
and colors of fall so dear.
Do you hear it chiming now?
Your mind may not know of Spring,
but here each new dawn's caress
tell of days when flowers sing.