By Sara L Russell*

Do you hear unspoken thought,
  Do you fly now, with the birds,
As the rest of us stay caught between our futile deeds and words?
 In the endless dome of sky
  Make a territory of dreams
While we can only cry for how finite a lifetime seems

Are you floating down the styx
  Like Egyptian cats of old?
Do you dine with Tut and Ramesis in palaces of gold?
 In the finite span of life
  And the cyles of the moon
We can only make short plans for anything that ends too soon

A final resting place
  Is no prison for a soul;
We are elemental as the air that keeps our planet whole.
  In your light and playful way
You will always follow me
Outside in the garden where the angels set you free.