by Shirley Carr
4/30/2012 / Poetry
My wings, strengthen by the subtle sound of similes and the plumage of lyrics, glide along the sky.
I've been transformed by the seasons for the past few months and it feels as if I'm at the top of a large landform that stretches above the limited landscape lined by dry ice.
Now what do I write next - after determining that the impossible has been made possible and the faithful escapades of infinite have only to take in the frontier of phrases.
The Spirit full of words that explored this distant terrain has settled upon what appears to be an intoxicating oasis.
I believe that this sojourn has introduced and welcomed the seventh sense. The sense of discernment.
But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.
EVEidenz, copyright Pen You In 2013
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