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by T.D.
Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1855725
This is an old poem I found about springtime, life, death, and relief.
As the eyes of the Sun look down on me,

I will run barefoot over clovers,

Through wildflowers, and under shade trees.

I will be as free as a bird, as lovely as a daisy,

And as hopeless as a forgotten dream.



As the Eyes of the Son look down on me,

I will be happy.

Enraptured in hope, and surrounded by love.

Drowned by God's eternal light.
© Copyright 2012 T.D. (tdempster at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1855725-Spring