Soaring

I’ll cut the wood to frame your wings.angel two
I’ll gather feathers to fill the frame.
I’ll give my sinew to act as strings
and bind them up to serve your aim.
I’ll call the gods of wind and sky–
I’ll shake them from their pious dreams–
to lift and hold you as you fly,
and carry you in airy streams.
Be bold and strong my epic love!
I pray you soar to sacred heights.
I’ll sing of you while you’re above,
and praise your holy, healing flights.
I’ll be the ground where you return–
the home you never need to earn.