Grow Wings

There is a chant, Lightly heard; Sung by the bees, the trees And the humming bird. There is a place Open only to those who can fly, A kingdom granted to those Who do their best and try To cast off their earthly yoke. There is a chant, Lightly heard; Sung by the bees, the trees And the humming bird. There is a path, Between two clouds; set. You won’t perceive it With your eyes and I bet; Your heart is still blind. There is a chant, Lightly heard; Sung by the bees, the trees And the humming bird. When silence breeds Echoes of solitude, When the soul longs For the high altitude And when pain emanates From the plentiful multitude; I teach my back how to grow wings. August 8, 2016