Aidaniya

She is a being in the woods.
Eyes closed, asleep on the moss,
about to wake.
Dreaming of big skies in King Bore's, the fathers, throne room.
Guarded by sister moon.
Wind, the brother, sings lullabies in her ear.
Her roots intertwined with the earth,
being one with mother nature.
Branches softly reaching for the stars.
Dew caress her cheek in the morning.
Sun her heart heats,
The break of dawn, keeps all her secrets.
Art.