The orange fruit dove who perched upon an untouched sea of grace
Whistled gentle knells of vapor that ascended into space
By the time her prayers reached heaven, her home had burnt to ash
A hollow shell of dreams that now will never come to pass
The rubble stone that once had forged a mighty wall of gray
Now shattered into vagrant ruins mulled and swept away
Not long ago the pediment was hemmed with Grecian vines
Whose skeletons now waste away like spirits lost in time
And though she mourns for what she’s lost and for what may have been
The orange fruit dove will take to sky and start to build again
For creatures live a thousand lives and she has come to know
Through soil bathed in somber tears, new life begins to grow
Poem by Tessa Morgan.
Tessa Morgan grew up in the suburbs outside of Nashville, where her parents played Tom Petty so often that she assumed he was a friend of the family. She has been a lifelong writer and overall fan-of-words, winning her first songwriting contest at the age of ten. She has a Bachelor of Science in Economics from Middle Tennessee State University and currently works in immigration law.