As the choir sings
The parishners press
Praying hands
To their breasts,
A humming sigh
Of love's golden harp
Begins the dance,
Around and around
Voices are raised
As light as a feather,
Graceful as a bird
They dance and soar
Until silence
Falls,
In this quiet place
The words
Are whispered,
"Love comes from the soul
Not the heart of
gold."
-
Author:
PrimalHeaven (
Offline) - Published: September 7th, 2023 05:03
- Comment from author about the poem: My personal understanding of God and the religion. The start of my journey as an omnist.
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 2
- Users favorite of this poem: Soman Ragavan
Offline)
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