On the Wings of an Eagle

I turned my head and heart,
and looked the other way;
For long the road did span,
that traveled into day;
The night had wearied my soul;
In pieces my heart did lay.

One by one my fingers weakened,
till my hand let go it’s grip;
My eyes roved over the faces,
that watched while my footsteps slipped;
And the voices that had cried, “Ever faithful!”
Carried tales on the winds of gossip.

Dishonest the ones who shout loudest,
to shut out the voice of despair;
And cover the truth with avoidance,
deceiving themselves that they care.
Naked they feign to be robed,
in holy apparel so fair.

Like sand through the hourglass passing,
days vanish into the night;
So few the souls who have lived,
with love as their true guiding light;
Proudly they lift up their weapons,
lost in a terrible fight.

For power is the cry of their battle;
Their cages are baited with fears;
History tells of the bloodshed;
Many lamps have been smothered with tears;
Freedom is only a byword,
passed along the chains of their peers.

I turned from the road that signed,”upward,”
and traveled back into the mist;
I left the burden of “righteous,”
And all of the rules they insist;
Now I fly on the wings of an Eagle,
with a radiant face that is kissed!

Written by Elizabeth A. Van Cleve