Have We Lingered Within Their Attic Floors? Poem by Mark Heathcote

On hearts of angels, have we trod?
Heavier sorrows than the weight-of-sod
have we lingered within their attic floors?
To glimpse, hear, behind their doors.

The sound of the vesper bells upon their toes
have we glued our hearts decomposed?
Sifted through shadows, only He knows
still, yet find ourselves juxtaposed.

Any learning uniform wind commands.
Oh, such a bounty is in-store pre-tax
if we can exert a torque force of love
might we discover the wings of a dove?