Upon the saddle I see
Far beyond the likes of me
Through a gaping hole of black
To the farthest galaxy,
Their steeds are true unicorns
And upon their heads are crowns;
Their manes are purest gold.
Upon the saddle I hear
A sweet tune, a melody
From a chorus of angels
Singing harmoniously.
Quicker than my eyes they alight
A righteous morning glows, shines
The crest of night creeps away.
Upon the saddle I feel
A radiance all around.
Tip my chin up to the rays
And the vision disappears.
My spirit awakening,
Inhales amber surges of love
That permeate my being . . .
so glad to see you are back in fine form; we have missed you here at the den! what a fine write from you; thoroughly enjoyed! hopoe all is well with you and with your family! (((HUGS))) to you, and (((HUGS))) to doogie! love, your texas friend, karen lynn. :D
Just as life during the pandemic was color-coded with different hues representing different levels of danger, life in its aftermath has become shaded in similar ways. As a self-styled “Seeker of Beauty with Beauty,” (borrowing from a quote by W.E.B.
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Love ya!
Leland
expands fron the particular
to the infinite to the eternal
all in a very few lines
well done
john+
Jack
May Lu a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)