The air is brisk, but refreshing to the touch.
I grasp it with my fingertips and let it get swept away.
I say, today, is not long enough. Too cold here
yet so beautiful. White like your wings, they take me away.
Golden horizon's and halo's to match
Sparkling with the sunset, as good as it gets
but it's so far away, so cold today.
Won't you rise up high and ascend with me.
The clouds they form a place as white as snow,
Am I here or must I go? I do not know.
Your wings are long and white as well
as we ascend into the white of bliss or cold.
Moth Harris
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/angels-48/
