Her Healing

Quietly awakening.
The light is faint but true.
A scent of newborn majesty
weeps from the morning dew.

The wind is rough.
The cold too much to take.
But still, there is an innocence
in nature's cruelty. As if She
simply didn't have the human
eyes to see it as destruction.

Night ascends.
The dawn amends the dark.
Clouds breaking fast away
within an awesome blue array.
The storm is past.
Her healing begins...

? Michaelette ?

10/30/2004
Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .