Wings

Devotion's fluttering stance
upon the cathedral's ancient cliff
uttering chants of petition for divine reclamation,
feeling plumes of anointing
from the heavenly embrace,
obeying the voice of light
that whispers to jump and soar
beyond the precipice of rituals.

Faith flies towards clouds,
heart is caught upon zephyr elation's current,
until illusion evaporates and reality's gravity
sucks the spirit towards consequence's stony rocks.

Ears heard the immortal gust breath a flame
and thought it was a psalm from God,
but never packed a scripture's parachute
for knowing His promise
instead of a deceiver's seductive sentences.

Discovering harshly that not all urges
one thinks have eternal song
come from the same source,
without the sacred scriptures strings
to tether one to the truth,
it is so easy to leap off wisdom's ledge
by the words coming from hell's liturgical charade.