The plane soars up high
beneath and above the clouds
of Cirus, Cumulus and Nimbus
it flies.
Below the ground we see
the houses and companies
of man and woman
turn to be tiny spots of light.
We search the skies
And bear the mountainous
Burdens in life
burdens we think
enough to kill us alive
And yet from the perspective
of the heavens,
these mountainous burdens
are simply small spots
of light when brought forward
to the heart of God.
We are all just little specks of light or dust in the great scheme of things - good write Elizabeth, very well expressed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks, dear Valerie, for your beautiful response.