On top of the pines
they spoke in tongues
and redressed cycled days.
They walked upon the sky
and intersected with wings
aflame by the sun.
It is an aviary of prayer
of limitless tone.
I am not alone.
The field is an amphitheater
catching and throwing
the sounds of mourning.
A duet of doves seize the day.
Carpe diem tweaks the dew
and lifts redemption again.
The blackbird’s night song
fades into light.
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Great poem. My favorite line, “They walked upon the sky and intersected with wings aflame by the sun.” Also your opening line, “On top of the pines….”
Wanda, always good to hear from you. Thanks so much.
I really like the thought that “the field is an amphitheater.” Being in nature can be more entertaining than watching a play.
Thanks for stopping in Bill!
oh wow jerry…this is beautiful…the field an amphitheater..on top of pines speaking in tongues..and the night song fading into light…very atmospheric piece
Gerald the Writer 
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