spirals downward; caught
by the dust in the trees,
then burrows into the
piles of scattered leaves.
Life goes on, as Sun rays
spill toward the sheltered ground.
There is a golden silence
for the wind blows, not now.
It will resume in morning
hours, before the Rooster crows;.
Life is beautiful when you
hear the Songbird sing
about a song and ring
of light, from the Sun above
filled with warmth
and with love.
Sometimes, I think of you the most,
About the Trinity and the Holy Ghost.
Why is that you ask, I see?
I'm unsure, but it might be,
A hidden need, that's inside of me.
The part that prayer plays in life,
When used, reduces pain and strife,
That we see everyday, come what may.
To soothe the worries; Who's to say
If the results will end with scorn
As our life goes on, so forlorn.
Would, that I could
Write like thee.