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

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.