
Heaven’s Language
Music, the intoxicating smiles of beauty, steals my heart; then begins to climb into infinite spaces where my dreams have been. It is like the sweet language of my beloved that mingles with the breath of heaven as it gently lifts me up to greater heights. I hear hymns from a choir of angels with golden harps, and their songs become an enchanting poem that fills my heart and plays with my feelings.
All reasoning is forbidden in this paradise where open spaces appear like a dream and the body like a narrow prison. My intelligence is now a futile grasp, and my heart is a floating minstrel.
What is this exotic language that suffused my heart and took command of my total being?
From my book entitled, "In Reverence to Life."
Robert L. Martin
over 3 yearsThanx much, Nelson. Every time you say something nice about my poems. it makes me feel good. I agree with you 100%. Philosophizing gets in the way of pure spirit, the one that calls love to our door and stimulates feeling.