Who Do You Think I Am? Poem by Smoky Hoss

The look of light forming through his eyes
As he asked the immortal question;
The voice of a thousand-winds
Gathering into the Milky-Way;

A pure silver sliver of sentiment
Passes between us... thin as a breath, and deep as light,
And for just the briefest moment
There is no distinction
Between the living, and the dead,
For all here have arisen singing
With the new sun;

With tears in eyes
And the heartbeat of all the ages
Thumping deep,
Every angel holds it's breath...
Awaiting, the human response...