Journey
With
each beat my spirit sours
To
a plane beyond yet within.
I
lift my face to the sky
And
so my journey begins.
A
journey of the spirit.
A
journey of the soul.
Timeless
and ancient
New
yet well told.
My
heart swells against my chest
And
beats an ancient cadence.
My
pulse slows its rhythm.
My
spirit begins to dance.
I
am at peace here.
My
spirit overwhelmed weeps -
Not
from sorrow or pain
But
from the beauty now perceived.
By
Harley
Ó
jce 8/3/00