Member Rara Avis
Through your ever silent touch, evolves my truthful means to be.
Not just of the breath...or the sense of moving limbs (God Given?)-
No, but the will and courage to feel. Vapid? Never!
Joy's gift, these words I love, grown brighter with your 'voice' inspiring-
I'm forced. Full. Collect myself! Forgetten where I am! So lost.
What flame is this? A cliche so appropriate, it explains it most,
This sweet impossibility, it's true. Existing where our worlds meet...
Conflict! But never bitterness, so usual in colliding views...
In heartfelt awe, I'm found, by the strength of demonised prose.
Such sagacity...I never (repetition) dream to match.
I'm only coloured glass...turning round, afraid to settle-
Yet, still, I rest. If one valid point is ever to surface...
Then gossamer wings we possess. Chains? Gone. we are free.
I found you on the earth, yet among the stars you are. Shine on.