Crossing Over
Foreword: This is one of the first poems I put to paper.
A golden pristine morning,
breaks across an endless sea of night,
And drifting through the burning haze
of breathlessness
I see a stranded man mirrored in the waters of time
Searching for, and to find his heavens shores
In the midst of this hellish sea
A battle rages tween sanity and sea as the sun blisters the day
But alas as the mirror meets the horizon
His heaven becomes a reality
And he is born into his spirituality
Never to thirst again.
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