Fly In The Frame Poem by Kelly Vinal

I’m the fly in the frame
Trying to get out, this isn’t
My habitat or my domain
When, in view, in here
These points remain
Defined and clear, maybe
I was born a sentry, maybe
I was gifted this view
And now the high-noon
Beckoning His Praise
On the looking out
I’m the fly in the frame
Pressed-on-glass, buzzing
Funerary and futile, obscure
To me and you
Trying to get out, it isn’t
Artistic escapism or sheer
Adventurism uniting us, maybe
I have something more, maybe
I am conjuncted love
- Maybe blessed -
Where planets collide
In view, in here, perhaps
We can ride along, pass above,
Move beyond, hurt less
I am the fly in the frame
On the looking out
Composing symphonies
Of redemption, of regret
Looking forward in the
Shadow of tragedy, maybe
Leaner for this, maybe
Less, kissing glass
Seeking light, I might just
Expose, I might just
Explode in His radiance, outward
Onward, home
To that domain