Friday, September 2, 2011

of precious dawn





we sleep inside this realm of being
living while dying
alive

such fragile creatures we are
human

we take flight each eve 
as birds of precious dawn

oh, this fine hour

soaring above sweet cirrus
far surpassing realms of glory
worlds where we are all equal

i see this in my dreams
in my eyes
in my sight 

this sight  


My Lord, why were I born with such a soft heart? 


i sigh for the leaves 
as they leap from the limbs of Mother Nature
one by one they fall to untimely deaths
empty breaths

her children

yet she remains silent
sentinel 

unable to mourn

preparing for the frost.




© Susan Marie 2011 










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