Under her wings, under her wings, enormous and white,
under her wings there is
refuge,
warmth,
stillness,
and sleep and
under her wings I wait and
I pass through the storm.
I call, and I call, and I call with a voice that roars
beneath wings,
protected,
satisfied and
I ask myself,
who will protect me?
Alone, I would be at the mercy of wolves and foxes,
idiots and fools,
blind men and brutes
that devour the souls of men
and chew the flesh of women.
They spit out fire
and they look gorgeous
In the dark.
The moon is the sun of the night
whose surface no one has touched
or ever will,
as only She can places her feet
on such a dais
when the stars of heaven
crown her with light.
And I, beneath her wings,
her cloak,
smile.
(Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 24 JAN 2024, València, Spain)
JaZzArt en València 
Beautiful post 🌹
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Thank you so much! 🌸
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💙
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🙏🏻🌻🙏🏻🌸🙏🏻🌹
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What a beautiful poem Francis. I love this. The ending is beautiful. ❤️
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Thank you so much Joni!
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My pleasure dear friend. ❤️✨❤️
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❤️🌹
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Beautiful! 🩷
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Thank you 🙏🏻 so much Adelheid!
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