in a dark velvet Sky



      held Aloft,  by The Thread,  of His Heart . . .







­The Rowed,  Home

­(  at Last  )






those Left,

and those Right,  those Ever in

His Sight . . . The Summers and The Autumns,

from The Tops to The Bottoms . . . All The Clouds

and The Rains,  All The Prouds and The Pains . . . to

those Great,  and to those Small,  from The Little, 

to The Tall,  yes,  He gave Them,  All,  a Nod, 

oh yes,  He brings Them,  All,

     back to God . . .





 from Book III,  The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Twelfth DoveTale – The Children of The Clouds





a Spiral StareWay




Clouds,  and All

(  right where They should be  )



then,  as Once,  Again,

and The Eyes of Heaven

embrace the Stillness, 

to gaze upon

a Man, 


with no

name or number,

with No Doubt,  of His

Purpose,  with No Rest,

to call His Own,  on

His Knees,


His Dory,

The Stars,  Above

and Below Him,  well

beyond The Reach,  of

Men,  and Machine,

Ever rowing,



and All

      Forgiveness . . .

*      *      *      *

and while The Legion of Stars

quietly ponder His Intent,  in The Presence of Their Grace,

listening to The Sigh of an Echo in His Wake,  They see a Place called Earth,

      slowly turning to greet The Day,  and yet pulled by The Fine,  and Silver Thread,  of His Heart . . .





from Book III,  The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Tenth DoveTale – The Cliffs of Andromeda