I yearned to fly with the elegance of sin
on wings of shadow and strings of smoke
that would follow behind and catch on billows of wind
and spin

and spin.

But when I tried to fly I fell
into a downward spiral
and a pit of no return
and borne on the breath of sin
I spun

a faltering
fumbling thing
caught in a tailspin.

There’s a fable that I’ve saved for you.
I tried to find a way to write it down
but the words stuck in my throat
and when the moment came I began to choke.

If I’m to fly
and have any faith at all
if I’m coming home to you
I need the voice to speak
and the voice to sing,
miserable thing! I need to believe that there is time
for the work of hands and
works and days
though the sun brightens in our eyes
and the sea begins to rise.

For faith I sing.
Come back to me,
feeble thing,
for I am coming home to you. If the windlord
with beating wing
should catch between his talons two
or in his hooked beak
and carries me beyond the peak
and beyond the point of no return,
I pray for you,
electric wing,
still-beating thing. I pray for you.
I pray for you. Look west and watch for me. I’m
flying on wings of fire and glass, I’m coming home,
I’m coming home to you.

If you enjoyed this poem…

Check out my poem “Quartet,” another metaphorical read with similar messages.

Plus, I have a collection of short stories and poetry available on Amazon for just $0.99! Check it out here.

Thanks so much for reading!

%d bloggers like this: