THE SPIRIT

                                                                          She calls to you ..

                her hands out stretched                

As her voice whispers thru your mind.

A vision there she has sketched...

Colors melding brilliantly in kind.

She wraps around your innerself..

Her soul does so softly entertwine,

As she leafs thru the pages of your life..

one solitary chapter at a time.

She marvels at your honesty..

your valour ..so brave and true...

She weeps uncontrollably at the sorrows

that are undeniably etched there too.

She would not edit any of it..

not one thing, though it may seem cruel..

for written on each page in your book

are the events that have shaped you ...

Without these things would you be

the person that she knows..?

The person that she loves so true..?

If you had not lived this life could you

love her too?

Do not sigh my one so sweet

For life is a cup from which we must drink..

Be it honeyed nectar or bitter herbs..

Tis up to us to not the same mistakes repeat..

Written by Angelwings 6/99

*copyright�1999

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