When wings expand at last, each of us
will have one singular moment:
airborn, lifting free, voiceless.
We are made for final flight.
In this time between flights,
theirs and ours,
we wait out the unanswered days,
our senses permanently altered,
gliding through dreams and daydreams
tendrils of a spirit entwining us,
yoking us so close
to the line that we cannot cross.
Our hearts float in their own seas,
alone, searching for the voyager
who has crossed the uncrossable line
and left us behind.
Memories relentlessly skimming the edges
of our brains, sheathing themselves in eternity,
while ordinary life goes on
outside our earthly windows.
But someday the veil will be lifted
and we will be invited to the party
in the unknown Kingdom
in joyful reunion with our Maker.
Now we hold each other in broken arms,
we lift each other in hopeful prayers,
until we take our final glorious flight
away from the rabble of this known world.