At Rest

I, with wind-

wings abreast,

no time to rest;

floating high in

cloudless sky.

I, on currents

gliding free,

lacing trees,

make my mark,

touching bark.

I, twist and turn

feathers a-fluff,

bugs and stuff;

clothed in all

tumble then fall.

I, side by side

with lofty hawk

a shrill, a squawk;

in break of day

highest of ways.

I, wait on He Who

makes the wind,

pardons sin;

by grace am saved

from a hellish grave.

“Yet those who wait for the LORD Will gain new strength; They will mount up with wings like eagles, They will run and not get tired, They will walk and not become weary.”

Isaiah 40:31