The Difficulties Of Flying

Flying is so hard to do...

Our spirits, we are told

Are to be light and worry-free as air

Flying is only natural in such a state

Our spirits are called to fly

To never fear the distance around us

Or the predators who stalk us daily

Never fear injury for something greater is planned

Never fear death because new life is coming

Never be afraid to sing because it is natural

Singing is how we express our praise - our joy

And we cannot help but sing along

With all creation

To be free...

Like a little bird

Small and hollow-boned

Cannot walk for hopping

Cannot speak for singing

Who walks as a dancer walks

So light on their feet as to tip-toe

Prance about on their toes

So lightly touching the ground

Flying almost without wings

Balancing on the slenderest twig

Never fearing the distance below

Yet still... flying is so hard to do...

 So often, I find, flying is just running

Running on air

My hollow bones are splintered

My spirit just as broken

My wings are tattered instead of full

There is always a predator bigger

Someone else who holds the power over me

I feel insignificant in the eyes of an enormous, holy God

Who demands perfection from such brittle, crippled bones

 And freedom feels... as hollow and distant a word as green in the winter

Like a little sparrow crouched down against the chill

Another pecking, pecking, pecking

Testing to see how much we can endure...

I can't cry for fear of drowning
Can't fly for fear of falling
Can't run for fear or running into you