Inspired by Psalm 91 and Deuteronomy 1:29-31
I scramble up my Father’s breast
fingers buried in his feathered chest
strokes of down engulf my arms
I cling to Him,
my Refuge, my Fortress,
warm to rest.
though mostly shielded in the shadow of his valiant neck,
misted sun rays reach my skin, thrown
from plumage golden bright
by sunset’s showered hues.
From lifted countenance, I lift my eyes in newfound confidence.
And as I look
beyond the crook
of Father’s curv-ed wing-
O God in whom I trust!-
my eye takes in:
the mountains and their valleys deep
the oceans and the plains
the wooded places
the crooked pathways
He would fly straight.
I take in the coming darkness, temporary,
as it gains on fading day.
And with Faith in morning, I, carried at Falcon’s breast, fly through every night toward ever
Copyright © 2019 A.M. Wilsonne