Mittwoch, 14. September 2011
The same moon I see
The same path I walk,
Through iron veils of life and death.
Two trees have grown
Three trees arise,
In a book written or not.
And a falcon that does not exist
Circles under a golden sun
Over an impossible valley.
With his feather the book will be written without a sign nor rune:
A web of possibilities
Flows into the cauldron.
On Sunday the folks from the ironforge and myself decided it was some really fine weather to go for some mountainbike ride along som...
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Natalie wrote me an SMS. Fancy a ride, she said. It´ll be dry, she said. ;-) Now dry it wasn´t, but fancy one ride I did. And I thought, w...