The hope of the future.
The pain of the past.
Oh, the awesome blast of thunder
opening another path for lightning to follow.
Hidden in the hollow of an ever ancient tree,
she watched and waited, ardently - for just
that scent of magic in the wind.
There was the peak of wind,
and so she chose
to fly yet once again. Rising quick, above
the weight of mists she had endured -
the gentle glow of stars and moon
were there to welcome her into
their touch of love again.
The hope of all future.
The pain of all passed.
Enlightening, the blast
of past that finally set her free...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .