In the quiet of morning meander

There well before the din of the day

I am the smallest, youngest wanderer

The hidden face in the holes by the wayside

I am the hope in the glimpses of thickets

I am the soft breeze in the thistles

The surest breath is only a whisper

The freshest of airs is the lightest of drizzle

The surest sign is the one that is empty

So I have a white flag for my canvas

There to absorb every vibration

Of all of the spellbound colours of life

Fear haunts me, violence frightens

I smile at moments of truth between enemies

Silence serve me, love distils me

A moment of freedom from tyranny fills me

Up with a laughter to last forever In childhood dreams, my moments are infinite I reach for the dove, my hand lies extended

Waiting for greeting, hoping for friendship I am the calm in the

Winter storm I am the shiver that strives to be warm

- By Zac Leon