Soft in my rough hands. <br />Cool soothing, smoothness <br />over mad, crazy rage. <br />Vibrant colors swirling and blending. <br />Mixing into one solid shape and color. <br />Feathers surround everything and <br />fill all that we can be and are. <br />They describe a mother’s touch <br />and a lover’s embrace. <br />They are the angels in the sky, <br />guarding us in our daily lives. <br />They are stuck to the birds of our worlds, <br />helping them to fly and survive. <br />These feathers we see are only the beginning, <br />for there are far more beyond the capabilities of our eyes. <br />They float in rainbows and clouds. <br />They write our histories stories, <br />and paint our biggest masterpieces. <br />They sketch, they draw, <br />they shape, they write. <br />Feathers are everywhere that we are, <br />and everywhere that we aren’t. <br />Life is full of many feathers.<br /><br />Brooke Harris<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/feathers-10/
