Soaring

We soared
through grand canyons
of clouds,
thirty thousand feet
above tobacco fields
profiteering in death,
above the capitol’s
hostile divides,
above wall street’s
gambling greed.
We soared
between billowing boulders
of cloud cliffs,
forming rocky mountains
in the sky,
weaving deep chasms
of dazzling white,
through which to
tilt great wings and fly.
A group practice run
of our someday final soaring
up and away
from earth’s shadows
toward your
clear,
pure
light.

——

If I rise on the wings of dawn…
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
Psalm 139: 9

From Heaven at my Door by Juanita Ryan