Return of The Queen

Birds sing, wild with joy
and dance an aerial ballet
humbled by Her beauty.

Cottony clouds perform a stately waltz
against an azure canvas
painted by a King.
He too celebrates Her arrival.

I cannot see Her as they do.
Too many generations of unbelief
cloud my sight.
But I know She is here.

I hear the rustle of Her gown
as She passes near;
I smell Her sweet perfume
almost too exquisite to bear.

From her Dark Lover's embrace,
the Queen has returned.

© Copyright 1996 Rebecca E. Kern

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