To Those Seldom Seen

I see them,

Those whose feet seldom
touch the ground
those who hover somewhere
not on the earth
but in between
the dirt beneath our feet
and the heavens counting stars,

Those old and tortured souls
their destiny it seems
to bear the weight of all that’s here
then to float upon a dream.
They ride upon the light
straddling a beam
come crashing to the ground
struggling to sing.

Lonesome primal moans
progress to morbid screams
but listen a bit longer
you’ll hear the harmony
as they begin to be
brought up to their knees
and rising to their feet
become a melody,

Strains of which so sweet
warn the heart may break
filled thus full with joy
as now we watch Him make
choir threatening to destroy
while promising to bring
peace to those buried in the ground
to those raised up
and to those seldom seen.

Copyright 2015, L.L. Shelton

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