Saturday, 11 June 2011

Even Song


Golden Fire of Son
On my window hovering,
Piercing through clouds of grey,
Shine your rays upon me pray.
Burning, blinding, purging Light,
But for a moment, before the night,
Then rest beneath your covering.

Shimmering clouds, silvery bright,
In the shadows made by Light,
Peace, my soul, at rest- respite,
Whispering Aspens herald the night.
Gloria Taliotis
June 8,2011

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

gorgeousness!
Elena