Perhaps,
In some soft scented holy place,
Where tall pines taper into space,
The song of the wind is whispering,
Gently whispering through the fir,
And the tall tree stands silent listening,
To what some cannot hear...
Perhaps the yearning on my uptruned face,
Had caught a glimpse of things afar,
In some secret holy place,
While wishing on a star,
Perhaps a message whispered by a wind,
That cannot be voiced with pen-
And perhaps the relics of my art,
Had know the message by heart...
Perhaps,
Just perhaps...
Adding your comment:
Beautiful poetry.
