In the summer of a long winter,
the faces in windows appeared,
snow of sun to melt, would the chance disappear.
The window would climb,
for a while I would be fine,
furthers to shine.
Insecurities a recipe to vanishing lines.
What lies to rise above the hollow cries,
for time set to harvest the mental and spiritual growth.
Fields of glowing corn nature's gift,
twice to be worn a perfect fit.
Would I realy want to miss
the shift from gold to opulence of earth grown
Let your body and spirit finally wear the real crown.