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If I could draw the heavens, or the breathless view of night--
if in those thousand white faces, one returned a glare of light,
if only faintly I could see, I would not feel this much alone
in having lived my life so aimlessly, and mend my shattered
soul for thee, I might.

If in a silver crescent moon, with song upon my lips, a tune
could come, and ease the pain of a world, if some, I'd lay my
banners down and cry, and give back a child her home, I'd try.
Oh if, her harbored pain was mine, then close my eyes, I would--
and die.

If in all the breaths that fear must take in it, is left a will we make--
an inner rope, we often use as faith, then if you fall, you've fallen
And you've shunned the shadow, and pulled the stake!
There is difference between fate, and destiny.

And if this small child becomes my pearl, if but one seed inside her world
I plant, would have my father's eyes glance back, and see,
would in turn, he do the same for me? I'd throw all my arrows into
the wind, close my swollen eyes and then, be this world, my home -- my
And I'd remember my life __ quite differently.

David T. Culver

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The following comments are for "IF I COULD DRAW THE HEAVENS"
by moonrising36109

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