Bestowing a Gift
Along the meadow grass and blade
I climb to meet the end of day
As skylarks coo their final song
In the purple of winds’ relay
That brushes vales with evening hues.
My thrill rises as evening bursts
Of prism light that glares afar
And the moon bestows a gift, rare--
Within my reach, one newborn star
pulsing through life's flowing ebb.
Each breath, each prayer finds its home
Beguiling my soul’s trail, consoled
A promise now within my reach
When the language of faith is told;
Through earnest sighs, my primal lore.
Just Within Reach Contest
4/18/2015
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