Tara’s baby nearly ready to be born: angel poem

To birth,
ahead I go,
to Light
the Way
that Lights may go,
and Love
their lives
to dust.

A golden Love
that grows, and grows
and grows.

An angel kneeling
in the night
by candle light.
She rises
with wings outstretched
and bids ‘good speed’ , (Goodspeech).

A sound of wings
remains,
a memory of delight,
and
a cure,
life’s cure,
to begin
once again
the dance
that is
CLARITY
–a clear day,
one blue day.