fly | a poem in my pocket

_______

I once pushed two grand kids on swings
when the big sister started to sing:
“We do like to fly
so high in the sky”

Grandma thinks it’d be fun to have wings!

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Inspired by photography of Brooke Shaden at: http://brookeshaden.com/gallery/

Photo credit: Fear of Falling by Brooke Shaden

we paste rags, dead leaves

on pathetic cut-paper wings

then tie them to our backs,

flap arms and hope like mad

to fly away from barren cliffs.

a dangerous fog of smug

self-sufficiency muddles

our minds and fills us with

secret, dark, well-founded

fears of crashing on rocks.

if we open our hearts and

minds to receive his Spirit

to dare believe in a Love

who is wiser and stronger

than us, to bow in humility

his face will shine through

thick fog, remove our fears

(except healthy fear of him)

fit us with love’s living wings

and raise our spirits to soar!

a poem in my pocket