Fly upon imaginary wings
Over every dark and windswept storm.
Rise above all turbulence and harm
To where the white-robed angels praises sing,
Yearning for eternal peace and joy.
Even as the winds your worlds
In you there is an alien voice, and calm,
Giving forth the word that rapture brings:
Holy, holy is all life and death!
There is a paradise within each breath.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon