A fantasy poem about what life can be like when we leave our bodies, or not ?

Quiet harps being plucked softly
like angel feathers, both pliable and light
from the gateways of heaven !
A tune so mesmerizing it haunts
like the Holy Ghost !
Blown whispers from across
paradise, we are both in this together
as one, flying, soaring,
airborne
like two Angels by the swing of heavens door.
We close our eyes, breathe and are no more
than a mere feather in the wind.
We become summer in the winter of our life
we turn into rain, then fire, then
like a whisper of autumn we
fall gently on the ground
like a flower, kissing the earth
just before rebirth.
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2025