Flying Wings

Beautiful pure, white canvas,

In the sky, with little wings.

I see wonders; no sadness cause,

The sun rising by little blinks.

 

Some little trees trying to tether

My soul to; taking a growing flight.

In the mightiest of weather,

Seeing wings and a ray of hope; the light.

 

Of past, I seem to care too much,

I stopped while listening to slightest raindrops.

It’s so good; no complaint as such,

Connecting doesn’t work; make my heart stops.

 

I aspire to be one of those lights,

Shining bright and impacting a little.

Oh, they are beautiful heights,

Life’s subtle but seems brittle.

Author's Note

a little observational poem for the heart