We ponder this question.
Collectively we envision perfection.
Something more than what,
We are, or could be.

We say their marks are left,
By kisses we call freckles.
Seeing them with white light,
And wings, always carrying that message.

It always is of hope.
The dawn is near.
An intervention to prove,
It is the good way.

The right way.
They know the road has been,
And will be,
Long, heartfelt, and troubling.

So they make it melt,
All away. To be seen,
Maybe later. However,
That moment you will,

Feel it and be embraced,
By light, the love,
And all who are,
Above.