-A Lovers Call-
Oh gentle heart!
with wings reborn on dulcet airs,
that none have seen, nor heard with care,
preened, for the dawning of the day,
a triumph of the risen soul made true.
Tentatively unpacked, nothing is missed,
no lack, nor breath of wind withheld,
the heartbeat of those first few flaps,
perilously teetering upon the edge of the nest.
What God has given, nature unfolds;
Though the soul arisen wonders at the glory,
and the frightful heart betray the moment,
still, with that risen sun,
with wing-tips greeting the light,
a jump, into faith, into space,
into a world made new,
where no stationary view ever told
of mountain peeks, or trees replete with song,
of flocks and flighted joy in sunlit clouds,
of glory born upon the sounds of dawn,
but first, those fateful steps,
perilously perched upon the edge.
To jump, and not to fall,
this is the story of every lovers call.
© Richard Michael Parker 2013
