Fresh Harvest

Tangled stream
wakes up 
from the sluggish aura.

The singing skylark 
sets off flying 
in the dawn of lurking smile.

Her glowing eyes 
watch the heavens
of berries in the vales far.

Listen that murmuring heart! 
Does it echoes the spreading green
on the hues of the wings 
of her rainbows once lost?

Let her breathe the fresh zephyr
for weaving the fairy meadows 
of violet and yellow
where the bubbling water gushes.