“Meant To Pierce This Atmosphere”

PLEASE feel free to comment. Thank you for time. Deborah

I shamefully fall on the cold ground,

Though my wings are spread open wide.

I was told that I could fly, soar,

That I was destined to sail.

 “Mama, Mama.”  It wavers round.

Wind does not lift me off this tall rock.

Held down, I’m tied to earth

By the gravity of doubt’s hail.

Where is the promise of bird song,

The horizon of sea seamless with sky?

I flap these desperate wings

Yet, my eager heart slowly fails.

It must be beautiful to dismount

This sea-level state, to become a hawk

Free from fear and Time’s clutch

Piercing mortality’s skin’s veil.

Abba, Abba, please sever the bound,

The believer within my soul crushed sigh

Pumping warm, yet calling me

Though my dream be frail.

I know Your promises are strong,

Immovable to all who fear not the gawk

Of yesterday but still walk in hope

For Today to blaze a clearer trail.

How well fits the thorny crown,

‘The spirit’s willing, the body is weak’ cry.

We are all Peters wanting to walk

Upon water, but our faith proves pale.

But...

Fly, I will. First Morn at trumpet sound!

My flight no longer faint or blocked.

I shall burst forth unharnessed

And alas, Whole, deeply exhale!