DIAMONDS ON THE WIND
Twilight on a cool March day.
I walk out from my world of toil,
and as I look up into the encroaching sky
I am kissed…
by tiny specks of silver light,
falling from the billowy clouds.
They twinkle - gold and white - and surround me,
touching my nose, my cheeks, my lips.
And they awaken my soul from its fetal position
of exhaustion and fear!
As it slowly unfolds and opens
to the ephemera of this night.
When God reminds me,
with the touch of a sugary, diamond snowflake,
that I am alive …
and I am blessed…
and there is magic all around!
poem © Desdemona 3/98
photo and page design by Paul Johnson
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