Jul 15
I
Flamboyán whispers,
wrapped gently by the nightfall
the coquí sings true.
II
Clouds become soft quilts,
dreams live curled in the branches
under a sky full of stars.
III
The breeze calls my name,
it smells of earth and heartbeat
my soul finds its rest.
Flamboyán whispers,
wrapped gently by the nightfall
the coquí sings true.
II
Clouds become soft quilts,
dreams live curled in the branches
under a sky full of stars.
III
The breeze calls my name,
it smells of earth and heartbeat
my soul finds its rest.
I’ve always said I want to be buried underneath the sapling of a flamboyan tree, be reborn and live through storms and hurricanes as my leafs fall and regrow. I think it would be a blessing to be reborn.
