Moving us along

A place in the sun
Where birds cross
And cross again on the wind
Breathes your spirit.
A shimmering swathe of
wind-knotted secrets
To brush the tears away.
And a voice,
No more than a whispering
Echo of a gentle breeze,
Falls into consciousness
From the farthest margin of our being;
The resting point of oceans,
Moving us, in shining certainty, along
The cluttered existence
Of humanity.

35 thoughts on “Moving us along

  1. Pingback: On When to Let Go | The Barefoot Aya

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