Love That Inspired Wings To Fly Poem by Helen Crutchett

When I saw the light spreading its warmth,
it seemed like an early blossoming Spring,
renewing of the senses and feeling nothing
would ever be the same again.

To be alive in my skin,
to feel the caress of a gentle wind
on my face freeing my hair, I
shed my shoes kicking my heels
like a newborn lamb.

I leaned against a noble oak
whose ancient bark seemed
to have scribbled stories of a
sacred time.

I knew that when love came that day
it was for me straight from Heaven.
I try to capture that feeling and
make sense of it.

How does one catch a fleeting
memory that inspired wings to fly?