Show notes
Waves of a chain of hills
A roaring waterfall
Carving shapes in ancient sediments
Fragrance of wildflowers
Countless perfumes would fall short
of words
And your lips
Forests of earthy bamboo
Mazes of reeds in the marsh
Whistling to nature’s dance
Pristine ice adorning a crevice
Cloaking death with bursts of light
Burning sand that tires the strong
A mirage of oases to seduce
And your lips
