Golden
fingers comb through tall trees like saints, the floor is it's
pilgrims
Majestic
flowers peer up to the golden hands – awaiting the caress; a loving
gesture
of wonder. Earth wafts up (pines and soil, life and raw earth) and
kisses
the gentle souls of any being. The Earth – alive and generous with
its
ever eternal beauty. It's bestowed upon us pilgrims (which marvel at
a
green
draped surface) to look up to our saints with awed eyes and embrace
the
kiss of heaven – hear their whispers sing.
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