Here I visit solitude
Alone on barren withered rocks
Where wind and lonely silent
Birds of song not dare compete
For sounds of life
For each enjoin reality of empty
White noise and scenery
Where only prayers for inspiration
Bind the perception of now
To the constitution of tomorrow
Where playful paradigms of wistful maybes
Tease one's soul to dance, yet stirs the silent snows
Of sacred nothingness to sparkles of our minds