And when she sang,
a harsh winter evening
appeared to be offering
a warm blanket
how I embraced myself
in the comfort of her voice
that touched me so deep!
I went straight
into the heart of an ocean.

The wind had whispered in her ears
secrets of the world.
No one but she
was the Mistress of the untold.
Secrets entombed
swirled and whirled,
yet she chose to remain silent
and see how they would let themselves unfurl on their own.