Coveting what reminds me of Jesus
can’t be bad.
God in flesh, the tangible expression.
Gazing upon a spark of the Divine.
To smell, to touch,
to taste and see that He is good
that I might become good.
my mortal weakness carries me
It wasn’t ambition but admiration
that led to flapping my
Wax dripping from me, what I thought
was a sweat. Thrill.
Flight leaves me, feathers mocking
a soft descent.
Gazing up at the bright
me to giggle awkwardly.
Beads form on my lip, exposed.
as I plummet
Plunging into cold.