It is theory eons old of
Souls reborn, riding on the
everlasting
Wings of hope,
An act of faith so magnified
As to bring hope to huddled masses,
Destitute and starving in the massive
heat
Of desert sun, or on
Frozen prongs of winter’s ice
Til all are gone.
Imagine for a moment that
The reaper’s scythe has little dread,
That hearts are light, and eyes see clearly
Destinations up ahead.
Fear evaporates to dust.
Anxiety is vaporized by rays of sunlight
Trickling, sparkling on dancing feet.
Waiting now and welcoming,
Never fearing
Life reborn.
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