In snow soft blanket in water of my life
does wash to sea.
Nothing prepares me for the way o cup
overflowing gifts to bring
of praise.
This an angel from the deep so whispered
with her tears of flame
to me.
Outside looking into grace I sleep.
Is It Poetry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/go-rest-high-upon-the-moutain/
