The Valley of Nod

Sacred the Being who paints the stones with memories fallen through time, catching the rain that carries the tune, hearts living sublime.

Deep the winds stirring the day, piercing the wake of the soul, stains of peace riding the light, canyons calling the cold. 

Gentle the dream that soaks in the stars, pillow moon visions away, seasons of love in folded hearts - sunsets over the bay. 

Earthen the winds moving the sighs that pass in the valley of dreams, drinking the nectar of orbs sacred call, bridges connecting the schemes. 

Sensual the tone, winging the night, pulsing the meadows of God, dripping the honey of life’s only heart - home to the valley of Nod.