There once was a man
who knew how to fly.
He had been given wings
to soar through the sky.
All the while dreaming
understood it was not heaven,
he soared as high as he could
and as far he would go.
Within the realms of earth
not of heaven beyond.
“What to do” he asked himself
time and time again.
Wondering ever so often
what all this was about.
Asking: Are these wings of glory
or just a great story?
He knew it was not.
but it felt like heaven.
Heavy heart weighed him down
in clothes that of mortal.
When he was not flying
he spent time crying.
Angels came before him
in mortal hearts and step
through the long journey
of trials and anguish.
in these precious moments
a purpose languished undefined.
One day he stopped flying
and remained stuck in this land.
The wind that once took him up
now knocked him down.
Tripping over confusion
The rain trickling on him sick.
The snow crept up against him.
Cold and darkness hovered over him.
Never asked God why.
There was a reason for it all.
In blind faith he knew well
this too will surely pass.
With no keys in pocket,
no bed and bath to make.
One thought prevailed;
"Where do I rest my head tonight?"
Dangers lurking, rodents scurrying,
evil spirits and dwellers of night.
The silence is oh so loud.
Fear is of the unexpected.
Suicide asking to lend it an ear
trying to make a deal.
As a shoe’s sole is ripped out
and he ponders the rest of the way.
Lest a few may laugh aloud
maintaining sanity remains.
No matter…he still moves on
in spite of misery glad.
What makes a man think
if not on the edge of a precipice?
He was lost in plain sight
yet found himself in light.
When one day
He came his way
and picked up the broken pieces.
Formed a divine fractal
that harmonized with reason.
As he waited for morning sun as usual
to revive his unbroken spirit.
Look to the day and thank God
he's still alive... for His perfect plan.
DionWorx
