poem: spiritual beauty, soft melody – 22/03/22

the dance the flautist sweetly breezes her melody,
I can barely hold myself together
that breath which creates wonder
not an insolent din,
fires once raged
and sins were born
but hell hath no current feature,
gone, perpetually, is that scorn!

no devils raging on shoulders,
no carrying heavy loads to break
weary backs,
they do not prance their fiendish means
above the line of fresh air,
because, because,
they are no longer there.

free of sin
and lightly taking in
the trilling shrill song,
breezing
of the instrument filled with delight
and winding heart song, streams,
what is it they look for
what is it they search for now?
peace, serenity,
and then jubilance all around!

angels ring and angels call
they embark upon journeys
to those one-lost souls
perpetuating the knowledge
of a thousand years,
the collection,
the atoms,
enlightening.

purple: violet and lilac,
yellow: citrine and gold,
ruby in her richest red,
and pink, mauves,
all around.
And rose gold surrounding
that symbol of love,
yes, this integral melody,
beautiful piece,
has been carefully constructed,
for the flautist, carefully made
like a perfect bouquet for her
grown.

He takes her hand,
as gently as can be,
enlivened soul,
enriched loving eyes,
they know truest loves meant to be,
deep inside.

© 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.
Image from Unsplash.

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