Wings of the Morning

Wings of the Morning Departure on my mind, earth to fallaway, I see the moving light pass into history and know that now does not just happen, I may plunge into the heights, create an act of will and take the morning with me on the flight. Away Away and lust companion just enough; it is the brightness of the day to make smooth edges rough and sharp to clear away the fuzz of reticence; you'll never understand. Gleefully I go. There is no time for me to take the intellect along; freedom will afford a price like that, and certainly with pain. It always does. It is the morning that projects the light and focuses upon the remnant that the evening spared--the little dream of prophecy at rest, erupting in a world of paroxysm, fair delight and death upon a moment no one knew. It is for us, from wings just like that. ~