Feathers

And I was born;

Naked.

Heaving chest, screaming breaths

Nursed and then allowed to rest.

Sooner than they could imagine

I would leave the nest.

And I was bourne;

Skyward.

Mounted-up on feathery limbs

Buffeted by the Western Winds

Seeking after all the kinds of vanities;

How pleasant were my whims!

Each new pleasure never gave

But rather took, and how depraved

Was I to think that I had gained

Something worth exchanging for my

Power of flight.

And then came the night.

No feathers now to keep me warm

Each one surrendered to some form of

Shadow-figure dark-deceiver false-hope-leaver

And every time I gave one feather

I received some token promised to be beneficial

I was told that it was silk or gold

But all I ended up with was rocks and tar and lead.

But just as I’d despaired of life

A shadow swooped down from the night

A warm, mysterious someone

Whom I had heard before.

He gave unto me feathers anew

He covered my form with refreshing dew

I mounted up on wings restored

And above me-ever above me-he flew

And now new feathers I have received

But somehow I oft desire to give

A feather when I know I should not.

His grace is sufficient for me.