Growing Wings

One day I am really going to grow wings
and sit beside morning doves in
apprentice to their dawning song.

When I grow wings I will aim far above
skyscrapers, higher than the
counted blessings of temple bells floating
up and up until they become ebbing
stars winking in approval of lovers’ kisses.

On my new wings, outstretched, I will
balance without touching anything,
held motionless in the breath of God.
She will not fail me.

And I will not forget your eyes or touch,
the laughter we shared, our creation.

When I grow wings, really grow them,
that’s what I will do.

That’s what I will do when I return to Forever
sporting my newborn wings.

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