Monday, May 12, 2008

Fallen Angel


Why are my wings made with metal?

Turned from earth's military manufacture

You could have designed feathers, flesh!

As I swoop - sweep scarred terrain,


I'm searching for a sprout with a signature from on high

Something created from biological holiness.

I'll take that green - plant it in my chest

Amidst the readouts and cables, it will bloom


Make me live - link my source in You.