A poem from the Summer

All the minstrels and sonnets
of years past could not amount
to the beauty of this place
Right
Now.

The heavenly spirits dwell
among us throughout harder times.
She is here.
Right.
Now.
Even when all is going to shit
She is here.
Right.
Now.

Hugging my closely to her breast
as someone would hold a baby bird
fallen from its nest.
''I am here'' She whispers
with every pen stroke
''My voice calls to you,
'Be strong and fearless
like I have created you
in my image.'

'Make every step
a holy one
in the journey of life.'

'You are walking
on sacred ground."

I forgot about the high I gain after writing a poem.
It is pure divinity.