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 words from the soul


Perhaps our eyes will have aged

when we see each other on the day after


quiet springs the eastern sky

birds wake the song

soul holding

Eternal peace

Opening calm

as the afternoon blues

bring silent streams

of memory when laughter

brought hope; when eyes spoke

of times when we stood



as the wind carried us

to another day;

perhaps our eyes will sing

when we see our friend again

and warmth holds


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