|
Miracles are mirrors of your love
Open as spring windows to the breeze.
The child will in time a sailor prove,
Holding course as wind and will might please.
Eventually, what is left is beauty,
Resonant with what was never sung
'Twixt the wonder and the sense of duty,
Salient as a word on silence hung.
Dear as life is, there is something dearer,
A truth that near dissolves as we draw nearer,
Yet is what is once tales of time are wrung.
|
|
|
<< Back |
Add New Comment |
