O sweet rapture,
derived from heavens touch,
so radiant with orange, with red...
Changing, everlasting...
Blowing softly into the wind,
so that the feather will drift majestically,
carried by the very substance that sustains us.
O sweet rapture, you are so beautiful to behold.
A clear green/blue pond, reflecting your image.
A small ripple forms on it's surface,
there, where your legacy is finally combined.
Changing, everlasting...
Then, you're swimming, searching,
trying to capture the orange and the red...
O sweet rapture,
such a difficult task at hand.
And, beauty can deceive! or change! or both!
So you'll be strong, ...and thus you'll survive...
O sweet rapture,
Changing, everlasting...
Are you really worth my greatest sacrifice?
Ferry E. Gerkema
