The heated stresses and strains of what you do can grind you down into heavy gloom.
But you know, by your very nature, how to let them be more like thermal flower bloom.
Sweet breath for your wings. The nearly perfect wings the Creator gave to you on that soaring day
When you were born. Those wings will lift you and you will glide up, as only raptors may,
In circles arching higher than all that came before. I’ve seen your strong and gentle gains
Silhouetted against the sharp blue sky at amazing heights. I know your eyes have seen the plains
Of earth, seemingly serene and eternal like a dream within the mind of God. Fulfilment is in
The air. It is hovering just there for your sharpness to be taken up and within.
Unlike the human lion who has ripped, mauled and broken all he’s ever got.
You’ve no need to be like him. You are our sacred life by being all that he’s not.