The Mother
A flower and a bee, loving each other
Blooming is my nature, uttered softly -
The bee spread her wings, kisses her petals
Raindrops are there, even a little light.
Wandering mother flies her thoughts
heaven is in joy, the birds chirping
the flower...
Blooming is my nature, uttered softly -
The bee spread her wings, kisses her petals
Raindrops are there, even a little light.
Wandering mother flies her thoughts
heaven is in joy, the birds chirping
the flower...