Talking with fallen leaves.
Velveteen angel wings... and wind woven by butterflies.
I see the light at the end of the tunnel with no tunnel just light.
I see a daughter.
Faith.
I see a sun.
God.
Also visible is a harmony flying high.... above the clouds... kissing me and me only... and maybe the moon, while Jophiel peaks shyly behind a close but distant universe.
Since I am now alone I shall remain changing only to the same.
Like the seasons, tantalizing the few, but a mystery to you
I accumulate mass or I am massive
Or should preside over mass.
About the Creator
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The Devil's Triangle
The sails ruffled in the breeze as we cruised along. The Sea Breeze was a mid-size catamaran that sailed out of Royal Naval Dockyard in Bermuda. We had booked this trip weeks in advance and were now looking at our Captain, Spike and two boat hands. Paddy and Wilson seemed like nice guys, joking around with the passengers and telling us some stories about Bermuda that only locals would know. Their island accents sounded almost British but they were pleasant to listen to.
By Barbara Gode Wiles2 days ago in Fiction
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