The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible. ~Vladimir Nabakov

Friday, March 11, 2011


She lands the shore barefoot poor
No food, nor roof not even a door
Her soul open free to heavens gate
As angels sing she has met her fate

Sun gently rises she feels no shame
To set foot on land that calls her name
Her heart quivers joy she has never felt
To see eyes of a man she has never met

Spirits connect as he takes her hand
To rejoice together on brand new land
Though exhausted weary weak she falls
His love he carries with dreadful howls

Wishing final wish upon a falling star
To bear her broken cross living so afar
Upon his knees he falls God mercy show
His tears bathe her face his head a bow

As two fools on a lifeline await a time
Loving and yearning is their only crime
East bound she ponders with a glance
Soul free in a body of tranquil stance

It was only a dream oh so ever sweet
As she looks down to see her bare feet
God's glory unveiled a forgiven past
In the flight of light to be free at last