The scent of you, leads me back to childhood's country, where the word is first spoken and written. Every day I open my heart and collect new magical tales to tell. I love to come home to this country again, where everything is possible, and I bow myself before the forest glade and its wide open door. In the world I breathe, I love it when all changes caress me with kindness, and this forest is disrobing from her green dress for winter sleep's quivering, garments of Light. A large hood hides behind this mossy stone, and these leaves hide small feet. Forest stories follow every step I take. I hear his voice... he is my friend. Nature is animated, sometimes glittering, and I sit with all these memories in the world of words.