In His Grace

PrimalHeaven

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 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: 1
  • User favorite of this poem: Soman Ragavan.
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