Another star twinkles its last
And yet the sky does not mourn

Only the moon weeps gently
Behind the wisps of clouds
But still the golden star will rise
Breaking horizons line
In reds, pinks and yellow
and the land answers with song.

Only the sea whispers gently
Against the grey rocks
Bubbling through the pebbles
Murmuring of memories
But still the mountains stand
Defiant and strong
Capped in black and white
Against the azure sky

Only words flow like an ancient river
To cascade of the precipice of life
Scattering in crystalline drops
Shimmering in the ethereal light.

Only the wind whistles softly
Fluttering the leaves
Swaying the verdant grass
Whispering tales of old

But still the magic remains
Swirled across the vellum page
A 'cross' pen touching lines
Telling the tales, speaking the clouds of sound
To remain forever tattooed in place

And yet the sky does not mourn
Only man gently weeps