Wings of Grace

when I am quiet enough
I can hear the wings of grace…

dressed
in soft hues,
and silken textures;

appearing when
I least expect her…

tenderly whispering 
in my ear,

placing her hand
upon my heart;

birthing me anew 
from her gentle vastness…

her wings are feathered
with mirrors 
of divine imperfection...

coming closer,
into the dance
of life;

brushing the edges,
and returning to the center;

how easily we find our way
to the altar

again
and again
and again...

sacred thread words & image © Heather Rhodes
image: self portrait, hands
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