Photo Credit:  Larisa Birta

Last night, I lay in the dark and I think of the mighty wind:

Lifting me high, like I was floating, on a swing:

Last night, although the night, was young and tranquil;

I was dancing, with the coolest King,

Who is, wise, well-formed and he didn’t ask me,

“Where was my wedding ring?”

For he knew my story, somewhat like the pages,

Of a delicate parchment, holy writ,

There, I knew, my love story truly begins:

Last night, last night, I kneel, in prayer,

Trying to sing—a poetic, song, like it was,

Fresh flowers, colorful, splendid morning—spring:

Hoping these words reach you, no matter,

How near or far; You are, my friend, dearest,

Loyal and faithful King!

Empress Journee