I thought of silver birds
and Silver Birds flew by.
"I want to fly with you," I called,
his essence a silvery radiance,
descended from flight,
though I looked, seeing him,
still there -
Beautiful, having no blemishes of vanity.
"Fly with Us", he said,
and all the Sliver Birds in flight turned,
like Beings in Rings of Light,
delighted that my ponderings were of them,
that they would be of service.
My tears flowed like Silver Birds,
and I felt Beautiful, too,
when they lifted Me into my desire.
Submitted by: Naimah on 03/12/2018
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