Another birthday, another feather
How amazing the span of wings and years.
How beautiful each feather becomes
when cast into the gleam of a beaming Son.
We are adorned with this new plumage
that will lift us to much higher heights
and send us soaring into our Maker's arms.
For each birthday allows us to see
that not all beauty is outward and skin-deep.
The new feathers we acquire with time
prepare us for a season when we will
shed our mortality to put on immortality
and fly to the throne of our Creator
buoyed up by the splendid wings of praise.
One last birthday, no more feathers to gain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem