The opalescence of the angel's tear,
Reaching out to you in here,
Sitting small in the shaded room,
A life to live and a hurt too soon,
What happened to the brightness,
The desire for togetherness,
Wondering when it will all come to be,
Solitude and sanctuary,
Broken beds and silent heads,
Perching by the ripening cherry tree.
On one dainty knee,
Looking towards the eyes of heaven,
With a dream on the lips,
And a fire in the hips,
Standing in the silence,
Slowly in the nothing,
Breathing everything to being,
With the opening of the eyes,
See the iris of the daybreak,
The depth and soul of dawn,
Hear the calling in the birdsong,
The angel knows them all.
Rowan Blair Colver
Reaching out to you in here,
Sitting small in the shaded room,
A life to live and a hurt too soon,
What happened to the brightness,
The desire for togetherness,
Wondering when it will all come to be,
Solitude and sanctuary,
Broken beds and silent heads,
Perching by the ripening cherry tree.
On one dainty knee,
Looking towards the eyes of heaven,
With a dream on the lips,
And a fire in the hips,
Standing in the silence,
Slowly in the nothing,
Breathing everything to being,
With the opening of the eyes,
See the iris of the daybreak,
The depth and soul of dawn,
Hear the calling in the birdsong,
The angel knows them all.
Rowan Blair Colver
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