Travelers

"Travelers"

Floating gently in the softness of a cloud,
A billowing white resting place of God.
Peace within such tranquil, gentle shrouds.
We go often where angels dare not trod.

A vision of an old and ancient tree,
Standing on a lonely windswept hill.
Through the purity of dreams so free,
Weathered hardships with sure will!

The warm eternal summer sun,
Touches my humble spirit and soul.
A tiny steam on a babbling run,
In greenest valley, past a lofty knoll.

The steam journeys lazily on and on.
Both journey and image stop for a rest.
Finding their way to a pristine pond.
The how of the journey' the true quest!

© Copyright 2005 T.L.Finch (UN: t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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