April 23, 2008

Heirloom Relics

By Charles Sapp II
Rustic and weathered,
affluent namesake
secretly bolded clue;
a relic heirloom
to miracles graciously embraced
and imbued upon a few.

The richness of soil in hand
freshly squeezed Earth ripe with nutrients,
rooted deeply
as seedlings are seen stretching for light.

Caught by cosmic rays raining down from the heavens,
beneath the umbrella, sheltered and unexposed.
Bathing in oceans,
standing against the backdrop of cloudless skies and eternity,
naked in fields of green pastures
while the wind skirmishes in open space and skims the skin,
taking the scent of harmony to great distances.

True color never lies
in shaded regions of doubt,
outlining landscapes of imagination,
vivid offerings
transparent realities.

The song of voice to tone deaf ears
replay the sound of angel wings beating
suspended in time, felt through the heart;

No words may translate
or surrender the magnitude of everlasting presence,
yet may fade when memory fails.
All eyes straight ahead,
prayers to fill timeless gaps in the void of forever
ageless relics as heirlooms
the gift of insight.