by amica paige
Uplift us to your heights
We'll ride the winds of time
upon your eager wings.
Take us to your depths
Adrift, we only kiss
your face when lost at sea.
Pull us past your dirt
deep within your hearth.
We'll fan your dying heart.
Then shoot us out of here
Spring us up with fire
into the open haze...
where the clouds will cradle us
if only for a moment,
as in our mothers' wombs...
And through a hundred cycles,
we'll tread the sea again
until the end of time
when Earth decides to hurl
our silent ashes up,
spent as offerings.
Did God have joyful tears?
We're glorious winged specks,
creation's golden dust.
We'll shine it, all the light
we muster from the heavens,
reflect it to each other.
Because even the spineless worms
can see the senselessness
in your rampant absurdities...
So fill us with thy breadth.
We'll ride your fickle wind
and spread our hidden wings.
Uplift us to your heights
We'll ride the winds of time
upon your eager wings.
Take us to your depths
Adrift, we only kiss
your face when lost at sea.
Pull us past your dirt
deep within your hearth.
We'll fan your dying heart.
Then shoot us out of here
Spring us up with fire
into the open haze...
where the clouds will cradle us
if only for a moment,
as in our mothers' wombs...
And through a hundred cycles,
we'll tread the sea again
until the end of time
when Earth decides to hurl
our silent ashes up,
spent as offerings.
Did God have joyful tears?
We're glorious winged specks,
creation's golden dust.
We'll shine it, all the light
we muster from the heavens,
reflect it to each other.
Because even the spineless worms
can see the senselessness
in your rampant absurdities...
So fill us with thy breadth.
We'll ride your fickle wind
and spread our hidden wings.
