Christine Phillips Poet Narrative

Walking On the Plains

I can hear footsteps walking on the shores and the waves 
rumbling from door to door looking for the stranger
in its midst who has the heart to forgive and
the pelican with its long beak searching earnestly
 for something amusing to eat. I can hear the door bells ringing 
And the stranger singing while the truth with its open guts 
rises slowly with the morning sun looking at destiny smiling
I can hear the mad waves over yonder bashing against the anchor 
penetrating the dark corners where the ellipse has closed in 
The distance keeps rolling by waiting for the midnight cry that resonates with the stranger singing in the midst
It is that feeling that you get when courage is flying high in the air 
and hope is wrapped up where destiny is bound
 And the day with all its busyness opens the doors for winter gladness 
the sorrows of yesterday is already passed and gone and
the skies have breathe a sigh of relief  for the bold
 stranger whose heart has opened  the globe.

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