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Motion
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April 2002 Poetry A cool breeze blows,
through my bedroom window,
as I write.
Listening to songs of Angels,
drift through the room.
I watch the tall grass,
carefully distinguishing each blade,
as they dance in the breeze.
A strong gust blows,
and I watch the birds,
fly away from the branches,
of trees wafting in the wind.
I just sit and ponder,
as I watch the world,
in motion.
~*~ Jill ~*~
This is an amazing poem, it speaks such peace, and understanding of the outter world, and inner sense, just being able to see natures simple beauty.
Lady A
Sweeto!