12 Thursday Oct 2017
Posted in Poetry
Tags
becoming, bliss, breath, connection, destiny, grace, knowledge, life, living, love, old maps, passion, poetry, spirit, strength, understanding
heaven
is never
as close as was then
warmth
to my cold
fingertips
somebody wrote
themselves into story
e’en now
I remember
the way –
the essence
of light
when stilled
by surrender
purpose made sweeter
by the giving
away
a shimmering
promise
of love yet
becoming
the same as was
morning –
found new
on the day
. . .
Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic
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