Start to Sing

Free floating, let the endless winds keep blowing.
Ride into the sky within a winged chariot.
There is no fear within the wonder that you feel.
Safety and security are flying with you now.

Let your long planned circumstances go.
They have outlived there time and place and view.
Moving on brings thoughts of new adventure.
But only if you let it help you grow.

Listen to the angel of your soul.
Trust the best of all you ever knew.
Allow a helping hand to comfort you.
The healing advances in each touch.

Don't make too much of should or ought.
Society can't see the draught so many
of us feel through each new day.
Bend a little, take the pain within
your hand, and throw it all away.

The angels understand your need
when no one else is there.
Deity so seldom shows its face.
Take the feel of grace and let it grow.
Meander through the grace of letting go.

Light, they feel like light and air
within the beauty of a springtime sky.
All aglow with gold that can't be spent.
For grace is lent without expectancy.
And yes, it always will be free.

It's born of love and lives in these,
our hearts. Touching close, it starts
a vast improvement in the quality
of every life that dare partakes of it.
Relieving stress, upending pain -
pushing gain and loss around the bend.

Slow and sweet, it takes the burning heat -
transforming it into a gentle warmth.
The paranoia lifts and all the pain is
fading into yet another moment's bliss.

Trust the grand reality of love.
Don't argue when it's spoken of.
And never make the waves
veer off their course.

Belief is not enough.
You have to feel it deep inside.
Bringing rise to joy within defeat.
The world is sweet and gentle, after all.

Mother love can never leave.
Grieving shouldn't last
as long as that. The spirit
of the world is holding all
our many souls within its love.

Mother Earth and Father Sky.
Ah, here there are no alibis.
Thunder quickly happens and is gone.
Days are given over to the sun.

Wind blows in every which direction
turning all the great confection
into more confetti for parades.
Too serious can bring about malaise.

Money, gold, the escalating prices,
come and go as if we threw the dice.
Fate is real and destiny will
have its way with us.

The trust does not come easily these days.
We take so little time to kneel and pray.
Yet all we are depends on something
greater yet by far. Something more
than human can achieve.

Wonder there, among the wonders
of our earthen history. Man was never
greatest of it all. Open, and receive
the gift of utter understanding.

That's all it takes - an opening.
And all the angels start to sing -
for you...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2002 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .