Do You Hear

There is a love sings me awake each day
(do you hear, do you hear, do you hear?)
Dove-wing soft, trees alight with shimmering highs
Singing skies are paintings hung by God's own hand,
A voice sweeter and stronger than all that was lost remains
Wearing dresses long and flowering into lawns, fields, forests lore
Tempered spirit glowing and towering towards the heavens drawn
With finely measured reins, released at last to face the dawn
Another sea to sail where crosses die in red to fall and rise in life
Praying I am here with you, find your way
There is a love sings me awake each day
(do you hear, do you hear, do you hear?)




Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 493 times
Written on 2013-03-06 at 14:12

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