rising o'er the fear.
The skies are fair. The air is clear.
Slight breezes keep leaves rustling.
I listen to the sparrows sing
of heaven lived upon this earth
in a presence that's composed of worth.
They must live within another state of mind.
Not altered, for they always sang.
It is we, the human species,
that has altered all too much.
A simple kiss. A caring touch.
It used to mean so much.
To sit together quietly.
To crickets or the buzz of bees.
The rustling of the Poplar trees.
To watch the birds that took to wing
and flew until another song arose.
High above the wires
and the waves of our audacity.
No radios to blare.
The heart of nature bearing life along.
Perhaps it is Her heart still beating strong.
No matter any power man impeached.
No matter all the hours out of reach.
Still autumn rises through it all.
Content with every cyclic rise and fall.
The spirit of this Earth relieving
even mankind's mindless stress.
She is. And brings it all to rest.
And we reach to catch the stardust
as the night revolves around Her song.
Bringing us another opening...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2005 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .