With each beat my spirit sours

To a plane beyond yet within.

I lift my face to the sky

And so my journey begins.


A journey of the spirit.

A journey of the soul.

Timeless and ancient

New yet well told.


My heart swells against my chest

And beats an ancient cadence.

My pulse slows its rhythm.

My spirit begins to dance.


I am at peace here.

My spirit overwhelmed weeps -

Not from sorrow or pain

But from the beauty now perceived.


By Harley

jce 8/3/00

Return to Main Page