The I Am of Wings
Whispering leaf bones of pines emerald my window as the last gasp of winter foams the horizon. My heart lifts a psalm of spring in goosebumps along my arms. The constancy of season’s change breaks the glue of grief I’ve been mired in. For a few chords of hallelujahs I am the wings I begged God to send me. ©Susie Clevenger 2021 The Sunday Muse #149