From the tear drops of angels. These writings come. These are the tears with-in the tranquilized warmth of our children. From the graceful willows spoken through the eyes of a dream-teller. Soft words dancing naked upon the wedge of feathers, for the people of the world. For with-in the corridors of whispering tears. The children sing to the soft morning mist. For the tenderness of love and happiness. So allow the shadowed moon flowers of our children to eclipse he wings of life around you. Yes these writings are of our children. The most wonderful reflection we will ever know. Illuminating the twinkling of precious memories. So thank the lord of evening prayers, for the gift of a child, is here.
