Angel Wings

Set out to fly on wings you made
with feathers fragile as the look
your eyes convey when I come near.
Set out to fly and find me there
among the winds I drift from fear,
into the blue sky, so way up high.

Set out to fly on wings you made,
turn your back on grasses green
and make for the sky with haste to see.
Among the highest trees and far below,
down on the ground with its head so low,
the child of nature cries alone.

Set out to fly so high above,
fallen from freedom and from good grace,
into the smile of a lonely face,
with bottomless black, an empty space.
Lifting the truth from all the lies
on angel wings made for the skies