rust red 2

A heaven's garden for the gentle and the true,
Where water born of this red earth washes every sin I’ve known.
That special air you breathe, it clears the heavy mind,
And tunes the restless thoughts to verse and rhyme.
Past drifting boards and weekend dreamers riding slow,
The river drafts the novel I’ve yet to know.

But that rust-red trace I carry in my heart
Never washes out, it settles in the bone.
It’s the very same shade I see when I look down at dawn—
The quiet fire that lives behind my eyes, the only heaven I will ever leave.

So I’ll follow where the water leads, against the steady flow,
With pine-wild inhale that opened up the locked rooms of my mind.
Beneath a moon too vast to name - blue dawn or burning red like your sand - 
You’re the gentle fire I carry, even walking far from you.

I knew the open-hearted, the laughter in the streets,
Where kindness met you daily, and never asked for more.
And the quiet joy of breathing in your air,
Becomes the healing for the creator’s soul.
I never wore your name, never called you home,
But I leave my little girl to you, where the red earth guards her soul.

But that rust-red trace I carry in my heart
Never washes out, it settles in the bone.
It’s the very same shade I see when I look down at dawn—
The quiet fire that lives behind my eyes, the purest part of my own.