Saturday, April 22, 2017


Post by AquarianM on May 8, 2006 at 11:03am


Like seeds in the sky,
Prayers take flight,
Sometimes perfect and sometimes organic,
Perhaps bumping into one another now and then.

Like maples in the Spring they spin on the wind,
Each a representation of the possibility of growth.

If I could remember a dream,
I would float down out of the sky,
Land upon the prayer circle of Earth.

I would grow into something that healed the world,
Lent shade on a Summer afternoon for watching clouds,
So the shapes of hope could grow forever.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 05/08/2006