Sunday, April 06, 2008


Wingless, beneath a beckoning sky
I watch the birds that wheel and fly
And, in frustrated longing, cry.

The skies are theirs, unclouded height,
Vast liberty beyond my sight
The lovely seeking of the light

Freedom their home. There they aspire
Past the wings’ reach. To climb yet higher
To quest and yearn and never tire.

That is the place where I should be
Unbounded by futility
Unshackled by the dregs of me.

You made me of this earthbound race
Put me in my appointed place
So You might lift me by Your grace

Not always here shall I remain
Not always bound by sin and pain
Not always counting loss as gain.

For You, my God, have set me free
Mine is a precious liberty
Your gift for all eternity.

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