The Dove
by Joanna Bowman

I’m in the clear blue sky.
Swooping high and low.
As free as the Holy Spirit,
Flying high.

Clear land ahead,
First land seen by me a humble dove.
Trees and plants everywhere,
Flying high.

An olive branch in my mouth,
Back to Noah I go.
An arch of colours in the sky,
“I mean peace” I caw loud.
Flying high.