Pluma

"She moves softly, like a feather.

Like I would like to feel, someday"

I see a woman standing by

On a moon too high to keep

I get to pour my lullaby

While she dances over me

I feel like watching paradise

As she paints art with her bare feet

She floats and flies, her arms up high

Her body whispers “let it be”

Neither all the rush of time

Can keep up with the flow

When she fills up the stage

Even this rude raw heart of mine

Cannot stay without touch

When she makes the world race