Light pierces through wind torn holes.
My eyes ache adjusting to the light.
Shapes and figures barely formed.
A sweet scent calls me forward.
But I know nothing of the day;
like a blind man,
seeking the sight he once knew.
But it is not in the light one finds sight.
It is in the darkness.
Here the sightless have sight.
Those who see are lost.
In this place beauty is more than a word,
more than a thing to look upon.
It is the essence of our soul.
Our own personal angel.
Lift yourself up!
To the clouds where angels sing.
Embrace your wind torn wings and soar once more.
For only with a heavy heart shall you be bound to the dirt.
Fly ever higher towards the sun.
Embrace its life giving warmth;
and in this place,
will know no bounds.
By: Jeffrey Phillips Freeman
2nd poem I’ve written recently. Took me just a few minutes to write but I think its one of my best poems. It was inspired by Amanda.