The sun is shining towards the Nard, Searching for his destiny where he scares to go, Playing his part as if he is a star, Not knowing that his home is not far.
The Moon is whispering in the language of the whole, Hiding her tenderness behind the blue, Wishing for someone who knows the clue, For something gracious has to be flown.
The Wind hears the prayer of the moon, Blowing across the sky to soothe her sign, In a surprise they meet between the dawn, And love sparkles like the glimpse of gold.
Love speaks in the language of the unknown, Driving the climate as crazy as the balloon. To love is to create the scent of being loved, Which opens the gate to the heavenly God.
