Above

The Spirit pines to rhyme,
with the wandering breeze.
Meld with what makes it real.

To sail on cloud,
so high, then higher.
Above, where Angels feel.

A feeling towards the Heavens,
A fusing with Divine Essence,
To all Creation in will.

To soar with cloud,
Up high, still higher.
Above, where Angels fulfill.

by (c) Colorofsky

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