(c) Colorofsky

Rookie - 3 Points (goo.gl/iE4msE)


Poem by (c) Colorofsky

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.

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Read poems about / on: angel, heaven

Poem Submitted: Friday, March 11, 2005

Poem Edited: Tuesday, April 24, 2012