We Fly 9:24

We fly,

With wings beaten down

With wings, bare boned, barely able to batter the wind beneath them,

With wings that are completely questionable in every way.

We fly,

When the winds are rough,

When the sun blazes down and we’ve gone too high,

When the wax can’t hold much longer.

We fly,

Forgetting there is a heaven above or a hell below, or even just the pulsing void,

Lead by stars and the patterned marshes,

Exhausting ourselves.

And yet, we keep flying

In the winds of life

9:30