Broken wings –
these silly things
letting air flow through
where substance should fill the gaps.
Perhaps, as with weaker souls,
my brilliantly crested breast can indulge
in lesser pleasures, still survive the dawn,
and redeem my righteous standing…
just maybe… if I lay down my armor gently.
Yet, fragility is no less feeble when coated
with a tentative nature.
Whether savagely devoured or
carefully pierced by the edges of
pristine, pearly teeth
– a bite is still a bite.
And, despite Light,
humanity is still falling.
This spiral with breathtaking views
leaves us confused in descent.
Why can’t these wings keep me afloat?
Ambitious feet refuse to be soiled,
but toes stretch long for the dipping,
knowing – they will rue the day
of defiance. Why, then,
must they test forbearance?
Knowing is a double-edged sword,
reflecting simultaneous truths.
I am beloved and bewildered
in this crippling existence. I am
held firm and alarmingly adrift
in this spiritual persistence. I
see forever, but taste now with
quivering heart and trembling lip.
Thus, loss and triumph
caress my fingertips, while I
walk with mortality and dream
outside of it.
I need these two worlds to collide,
so I flap, and I flap, and I flap –
ever reaching for more.
Life uplifted.
Breath suspended.
Love transcended.
I flap, and I flap, and I flap –
ever sinking in less.
Life encrypted.
Breath resisted.
Love acquitted.
I flap, and I flap, and I flap –
ever soaring in stillness,
while turbulence surrounds me.
Then, I remember…
I am but a flutter of faith,
nesting in eternity’s heartbeat.
These silly things –
these broken wings
with gaps that let air through
were never meant to carry, but
whisper in their flurry,
“I need You…”