She whispers my name... Only I can hear

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Tiny Gifts of Light


Crisp clear and cold

Speaks the wind

From out of the west


Grey and white shrouds

Retreat in flying tatters

Revealing an eternity

Surrounding the bright beacon


Full Moon


Photons born burning

In the heart of Sol

Then set free to the void


She Catches these

And sends them to me

Now cool and silver


Sharp as a razors edge

To cut away the everyday

And remind me that here in eternity


I have a place


Peace

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

This is absolutely beautiful