Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Turning Point

My turning point
Sheered off.
What was sheered?
Oh-just everything I’d thought.
Thought, believed.

But through the eyes of your dying breath
I saw
Beyond the small mind and all its investments
and how poor those investments were.

To the light shinning through the face
to touch a place
of grace.

Swan sitting in the suns rays
to illumine
what previously lied false

Angels come in all sizes and situations
This one dangled
in the dance of death
and opened doors
and doors
and doors.


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