Moments,
Like snowflakes
Enclosed in the hand,
Drift
Across my mind . . .
BREATH OF HEAVEN
How gently we are born
Upon the wind of change,
That mighty storm
Reaching us as barely a whisper,
How softly we are carried
From moment to moment
With scarcely a hair to rearrange.
Upon the wind of change,
That mighty storm
Reaching us as barely a whisper,
How softly we are carried
From moment to moment
With scarcely a hair to rearrange.