Being Spun

The center-point of the universe.
There is no time or space.
A fluttering of angel wings
amid a salient grace.

Reach out your hand
and touch the sky.
There never was a reason why
creation chose to find itself in thee.

The happiness we are is always free.
Spirits spinning through eternity.
Patterns rich with glowing light.
Fields full of deep delight.

The center-point, becoming one.
The weft and warp is being spun
of thee...

? Michaelette ?

4/1/2003
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .