This Poem was Submitted By: Mason D. Kelsey On Date: 2001-04-08 03:52:00 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Flights of Birds

Your host of angels swarmed about You stumbling down the aisle to rhyme Window seat, alone, without him. And as your seat rose in the air I read my part, “Hail, Mary Grace.” And when you turned, the hunter’s face. I saw I was a child inside, No airplane fell, And no one lied; I was a child inside. And in your soul a child abides, No airplane fell, But someone sighed; You were a child inside. If we had been blown into the void Holding hands and speaking words, We would have transformed to birds. We would have sung our songs And danced our mating dance And built our nest and fed on ants. But the hunter shot the bird And the boy cried out and ran To scoop up writhing in his hands. Your iridescent feathers and soft voice; All I could do was comfort and let go. It was bright with horror, dark in sorrow. For like all lovers, we had to part; Delight of the dream makes weary the wake And we had awoken too much for our sake. Now I am home and you have begun Gathering wild flowers and bitter weeds For learning to trust your holy needs. But when that is done, arise with me  Into the joyous air above Twisting our paths, apart, in love.

Copyright © April 2001 Mason D. Kelsey


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