The ordinance was silent And the silence seemed to ring Alabaster pedestals Shadow those who sing Art beside a Priesthood throne Are you statue? Are you light? I heard that we were birds once Who God had granted flight Continue reading
Mornings have a unique innocence.
It’s those serene moments in the
dim grey light of the morning,
where the dew is fresh on the grass,
and the larks and mockingbirds have yet to sing.