The Eagle

and, on the same theme of not being held back from becoming all that one is meant to be, here is one of my own favourite poems. (am I allowed to have favourites in my own poor struggling work? anyway, this one resonates with a very deep place inside me, and uses an image I really identify with)
THE EAGLE

They shall rise and fly like eagles,
Their wings subdue the air.
The earth shall hold them down no more,
And, some day, I’ll be there.

For these bones shall grow a body,
And the body shall be dressed
With feathers strong and golden,
His fairest and His best.

Theses eyes be no more blinkered,
But gaze towards the Son,
And by that gaze be lifted
Towards the Living One.

These arms, so peaked and puny,
Shall grow to wings, be strong.
This faltering voice be poured forth
In a fierce triumph song.

And the heart that shook in terror,
And sought a place to hide,
Shall joy above the conflict
And on the tempest ride.

He makes me for His purpose,
To see and soar and sing.
He makes the battered sparrow
An eagle of the King.