Trees are grown, roses bloom
Birds are looking for a mate
The magic happens again
It is f a i t h
Pure pearl in a heart-shell:
l i f e
Magic happens when you expect it
It is t r u s t
The thunderbird of fate
* * *
Fresh leaves of blood-coloured roses
Blind birds keep looking for a mate
ain-pearl in a heartshell: Nest of the thunderbolt of fate
Encompassing the almighty life grief is almost a sparse delight