Spring rusting to chocolate shadows,

recalling languid peach-chained gardens.

A symphony of delicate whispers ring, while

time focuses on a diamond-hard moment.

Language chants beneath a dream

and wind blows blue rain to mist

The storm goddess sings of light and chilling death.

Iron red blood beats with a vision of raw power,

flooding the sky with life-like beauty.

4-4-97

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Back to the Library
Back to the Hall

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This page last updated 02/16/2000. If you have any questions/problems/comments/help, please write me.