Saturday 28 March 2015

Peace dove poem


In the pale light of the midwinter sun 
mourning doves fly.

Black flock resting -a weighty covey
bending down the weak branches of a young pine.
Their long journey has only just began.

In the heart of one, a flicker of hope suddenly shine.
He leaves the flock without a farewell.
Lonesome pigeon on icy beach
gazes at the vast sea.

And as if hearing a prophesy-
senses the season's cycles, life's eternity
and despite a broken wing
and his heart by loneliness torn;
encouraged by the forthcoming spring
a peace dove is born.



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