LETTERS TO DESTINY © 2012

In the infinite cotton fields, sown by God,

Serenely rest the eternal souls,

In gentle fields of peace and light,

Where time dissolves and essence unfolds.

But sometimes, they are torn asunder by jet planes,

That cut through the sky with their fierce noise,

Disturbing the sacred silence,

Like echoes of a world lost to our joys.

And through curious eyes peering from the window,

Trying to grasp what they cannot see,

They seek to understand the mystery of heights,

Where souls rest, unburdened and free.

These moments of brief disturbance

Cannot shatter the deep serenity,

For in God's fields, the eternal blooms,

And what is fleeting, in the end, will sink into obscurity.

Thus, even if the planes tear through the sky

And curious gazes try to pry,

The souls, in their infinite peace,

Know that nothing can shake their high.

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