Sunday warmth with a calming breeze. Remnants of precious moments.
Days once shared with loved ones now gone. Reflections of faces in the clouds, still watching over from above. Never forgotten, their voice or touch. No one is truly alone, when someone they know goes home.
Sunday warmth puts the mind at ease. Witnessing miracles of life in nature. How could we exist without being so blessed. Everything seen, encased in such wonderment. Passionate in it's making, be passionate for it's creation. Behold we are loved. Each breath a gift. Treasure it until we recieve our most coveted present.
To reunite with the ones who went home, and watch over our loved ones as we once were.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem