White Dove

By Ody Munson

Flapping its wings across the blue horizon Flying with the gentle breeze

The dove has the wind’s gentle caress.

When weary, it finds refuge in the cottony clouds. Will my bed of roses match its purpose?

It explores, no need for permission. It is welcomed wholeheartedly.

Upon arrival in its destination

It is greeted with a warm breath.

Learning new things in every sojourn

A cage for yourself was never moulded. 

Follow the dancing moon.

It’s time for a smooth flight to your nest.