Amber night sighs Winter’s breath,
touching needled Pines where resolute arms
protect the place owned by the dead.
Out there, they rush here and there
and fail to see fingered roots grasp empty air
stricken by mortal’s worldly blows.
Resolute stillness lies below
where heavenly care beckons winged souls,
spirits of another time that freely soar,
transcending all earthly spheres, we so well know,
victoriously shedding cloaks so well worn,
to rise to heights only dreamed of before,
as White-Yellow fire sears True Hope –
where meaning and value are moral codes.
A realm unwalled by human foes,
releases Real Love – unexpected and Bold.