My wings are aching
As I create them into being
Be gentle with me
This first flight
Now having crossed over
I am aching as my body changes
From the dead to the living
And I see my big wings open
Such beauty
And I will weep for every sorrow
To set you free
And the blessings will reign down upon us
Love golden
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem