Descent

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Descent
©1999 shyflower

to the summit I soar and my wings are clipped
I fall thrashing and spinning.
inevitable defeat.
ground rushes in quickly,
quickly -- the end.
ah blessed relief –
still, I'll fly again.
my spirit will glide on a heavenly plain.
I'll rise, wheeling and turning,
soaring again,
my eyes filled with morning
as dawn recreates
a new beginning --
an end to the thrashing,
relief from the spinning
seeing the world emerge from the night
fast fading gray into new shining light
ah blessed relief –
God willing, I'll fly.



Many thanks to shyflower for contributing her beautiful poetry this month. Please take a moment and visit Shyflower's Garden

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