Whisper Of Wings Poem by Thomas Foreman

Brushed aside and torn,
Born on wind.
Chanced in air like a lambent seed,
Felled into the thickets.

Parched in thirst,
A venturous longing for dawns taste.

You pass your cup,
As if I were an injured fawn.
Pulled from the corners of cold stone,
Relinquished of fear.
Flushed and vibrant

Out from this fleshy cocoon.
To rise like a golden bird,
Silent on wing.
No more is heavens cleft hidden.
That silent still place,
Where the foot leaves no print.

We will touch one another,
Holding hands.
Well into the garden,
Of the creation of the creator.

Goodbye no more.

Laid down arm in arm,
Omnipresent.
Invisible to the other,
Awakened as one.