White Dove

Just another poem about birds.

A whisper of dawn the white dove takes to air,
A silent promise rising from all care.
A fleeting spirit, porcelain and bright,
It breathes the boundless freedom of the light.

It rises, an intent released from thought,
A perfect grace that cannot be un-taught.
It charts its path without a guide or line,
A living breath of freedom so divine.

But soon its flight is answered from afar,
By kindred wings beneath the morning star.
A single thought made real, a living sign,
A gathering of purpose and design.

They move as one, a single beating heart,
No solitary player but a part.
A silent language understood by all,
Answering a universal gentle call.

So let its beauty teach us from the sky,
That true release is found when spirits fly.
With every breath a shared and common grace,
In this our time, and in this sacred place,
A perfect strength we forge with no trace.