You know languages of winds,
but only freedom everywhere.
The sky is clear again. It means
what sun and liberty together.
But I am lynx, and you my light,
light for sunflowers and mornings.
And every days and every nights
you name as secret I am calling.
You give me wings and I am fly
for you and don’t afraid of fire.
The gloom was died. I know why.
Because the darkness it is mire.
«Today» , «tomorrow» for us…
And «yesterday» … was stay in letters
to dreams. The sky has many eyes.
And even you, please, don’t forget it.
