My little One
so young,
so fragile.
Like a dove blemished
flapping its wings
against the raging one,
trying to break free.
Trying to land,
to make the call.
A call of love, of help.
The dove so angelic
wants to be heard
yet the wind will
not let up.
It is unforgiving
in its strenght.
It pushes the little dove around,
will not let it be heard
The wind has a
life of it's own.
It doesn't want
the little dove heard
for fear of the truth
in which the dove
hides close to her heart.
A terrible truth,
a painful truth yet
one that nust be heard,felt
The dove is slowly
losing her energy,
her will to go on.
The wind is relentless
yet the dove powers
on with only one
thing in her heart
and that is being
heard, understood and most of all
LOVED
