Poem: Conscious

Conscious

There is no Paradise,
no final destination,
only the forging of heaven
during our days on earth.
We dig, we till, we toil,
as our children grow
and our harvests ripen,
only in time to see Winter
close in and bring again
a tomorrow for meeting
the angels that inhabit our dreams

written by E Bacon
on March 10, 2005

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