Natural innocence
and simplicity ,
a glorious arc
of rainbow charity.
The pulling of silk
through a loom .
A magnificent child
of the storm.
Holding pureness
feeling my love
without knowing .
Asleep at the wheel
of just being born.
The silence was deep ,
sweet and sad .
Her every breath was
a provision of
sacred order .
I had an absolute
vision .
a prelude of silent
music.
The wind sang
sweet lullabies
born of time
and starlight.
The music asked questions
of the breeze,
to butterflies and angels .
But, was answered in
a thunderous storm.
Disintagrating realms
of hope
who will advocate for
a beloved soul .
Life’s wounds move on
but , we are left
with the scars .