Soul's Keys Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Through passageways of nature, life floats rapidly, ever
onward, taking it's rightful place.

Bowing to demands made upon arrival, trees of everyone's
forest steadfastly support the insistence of having heard
an inner rhythm, tapping out their existence.

Knowledge of becoming, lies in each person's hands, the
palms of them.

Open-handed, we may help ourselves and neighbors of our
worlds, clapping we may crush or hurt everyone as we
falsely praise one another.

Folding hands gently in prayer, helping our neighbors,
marching steadily forward, we become who we are, while
carefully sharing our inherent nature's intimately with
one another.

Striking drums of fate, as we parade through life, creates
the beat of distant drummers, leading us from main routes
to distant creative paths, as we wend our own ways,
searching for the infinite missing piece of life's puzzle.

Keys to our souls awaiting our return to heaven, finally
at home.