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There are no

Shadows here.

If I were only Dreaming,

but this could be no

dream of mine.


I would follow these

paths, to another


If I could not hear

these sounds, filling me

with Trepidation.


A song so sweet,

I cannot bear its pain.

Gentle touches upon

The leaves, bear witness

to the wings of heaven

A whispering breeze,

that touches my soul.


This is a language I

seem to have always

known. I could die

listening to its simple



I could walk through

this dream,





I would kneel

And pray

For this to Be

No Dream of Mine.


Copyright © 2006- Teresa Rothman