Flesh of my flesh, in essence your own;
I nurtured and loved what God gave on loan;
Our time in the water has quickly slipped by;
I gave you your wings – child, take to the sky.
His love was a fledgling –
awkward in its moulting,
a pupation of sorts.
His grasp of her essence
floundered in the reeds
where others moved sure;
and twittered, juvenile
in proportion and quality.
But true love has a way
of making a man;
where finesse was lacking,
perseverance found flight –
I still see them soaring, now and then,
where time and age cannot clip their wings.
When visibility is poor
you have to trust
keyed into your GPS;
in a snowstorm
will always involve some level of
but if you rely
on your instruments,
Slivers of sunshine fallen to earth,
luminous love-locks finding their berth;
plunging from heaven in radiant flight,
butterfly beauties, bursting with light.
Arms wide open, I embrace the Light,
cherish the breath of God on skin,
and mind unfurled.
I swim seas of significance,
in freedom’s slipstream,
and, meeting melodious melt waters,
slip into my own skin –
a perfect fit!