The Great Creator gave thee pardon
to scale the clouds above.
Look fast and see all thy brethren.
O, hawk, pigeon and dove.

To glide freely the paths of air,
to go where e're you will.
Drinking deeply of life's cup,
you truly have your fill.

The eagle’s strike from on high.
The parrot's mimicry.
The owl’s ever-nighted eye.
The lark's song of glee.

If the time should ever come
that my heart dares to dream.
I would indeed fly away home
gliding along a sunbeam.

For though you may not be as rich
as the mightiest of kings,
Even the greatest of all mankind
wish that they had wings.

~ ©2020 By Al Baker