The Great Migration

Oh, how my eyes have been blessed!
To see Heaven’s tumultuous rush,
God’s artwork itself,
Racing through the sky.
Miles beyond the red-bellied and starlings.

In murmurations,
they stroke the color in the sky,
they cradle life to the Earth
And stomp on man’s naivete.

Ending nowhere and everywhere
Pride swells in their stomachs.
They believe they have won,
They believe they have no limits,
They know there is no end.
The unfailing heaviness of my Lord’s brush,
Shall humble them.

To each her own,
Because it belongs to all of us.
This story retold for eternity’s sake.
Rich specks evaporating;
Greedy, dark giants giving to all.
Oh, how the Heavens try to tell us!
If only we could look up and see ourselves in the bustle.
If only we could see them as they truly are:
Vapor.
If only we could see them as they truly are:
Dust.

Who will I be when the King comes?
Drunk as nacreous,
Honest like Cumulus,
Or tenacious as the Cumulonimbus.
Who could I be when the King comes?
Lost to the air,
Found in the ground.

Is our story one without meaning,
Burdened with unnecessary passions
Forever clouded with the certainty of uncertainty.
Oh, what can I bring?
Oh, what shall I carry?
When we are all just weightless souls,
Chasing weightless goals.
With love as our bonds
And light as the limit.