Reaching for heaven,
I draw back fingers burnt by the sun;
and ponder the endless skies
my hands can never touch...
Made from the dust of stars
I am planet bound --
longing to fly, but having no wings.
Then let this poem be my flight:
I will gather up dreams
beneath wings of prayer
and traverse, in my mind's eye, every distance
until I leave this Earth behind
and, without moving,
stride among the heavens.
