On the wings of a dove,

as if from above,

the ultimate sacrifice we make,

is love…

Truly unconditional,

tis a main thread,

that runs throughout…

the falling rain,

heart broken pain,

or a song’s refrain.

These experiences never fail,

to tell a tale…

of a heart’s loss,

or a sad melody,

on a cloudy day,

that begins as a pale image…

fleeting as those beyond the veil.

As though in spirit,

they greet us shyly,

wondering if we see them,

or hear it…

A whisper,

a shooting star,

the lights they represent from afar.

We are surrounded,

as if by chance,

though being alive,

is no moonlit dance.

It is a journey,

some hard, some less,

of our own design,

carrying loved ones,

along for the ride.

In this life,

some weep in sack cloth,

shaking fists– crying why?

Some just the opposite,

born in comfort,

handed a trove ….

of treasure.

Idly they sail,

through the days,

peaceful in a garden,

with sun’s golden rays.

That is the path,

many may take,

we only need see it,

in order to wake…

to the illusion.

Clear your eyes,

wipe away the fog,

see life’s picture,

with clarity… to jog…

the soul to awaken,

and recognize,

this life is full,

and waiting to rise.

Heal the pain,

hear the joy filled song,

plant a bountiful garden,

with love to share…

even in the rain,

tis there for us all.