Heaven Held.
Strange the interchange which takes place
in normal sensations.
The sound of water on glass,
thunder, or grasshopper noise transforms
into sight down in the ear.
Fresh odours which smell so strongly appear
as taste to the back of a nose.
Feelings of dampness on
skin or rose-petal touch of soft velvet ends
eventually as hearing.
Dawn's wonder is sampled by more than
mere sight.
The presence of silence exudes a scent
which turns into feeling.
Birdsong's twitter invades eye-sight just
like it captivates ears.
Moments of noting translate by alchemy
to other subconscious senses.
Yet who we are is really much more than
the sum of all other.
The tower we are is lit by spirit guided by
divinity and cradled in sacredness.
We, a mixture of clay and angel so vastly
endowed need wary to tread.
May we ever treat gently the heaven held
in our miraculous vessel.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: July 2nd, 2018 04:44
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 31
- Users favorite of this poem: Heartwriter
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Comments4
Beautiful Fay! The last verses we're my fav. In our miraculous vessel.
Ah - you picked the vital reason for being ready to treat gently what we all hold in our subconscious senses......... blessings indeed . Thank you dear friend for your visit and read.
Beautiful write Fay.
Thank you dear Goldi - - the subject of sense-interchange has long held my interest.
A fine write Fay. Dunno if we'll hear much thunder. Our clay is melting, i.e. ourselves!
No rain here today either dear Orchi - the ground certainly needs a few showers.
Then we'll moan about the rain - will we?! doh!
Beautiful Fay - a great read to return to.
Thanks a load Michael - not a subject all can relate to but the strangeness of sense-interchange has often engaged my interest.
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