rwanttaja
12-21-2017, 03:04 PM
I've blessed my wings a thousand times
for where they've carried me--
high up the ladders of the wind--
far out across the prairies of the sky
to lands my fathers never knew
and shores my kindred never trod--
threading the corridors of templed cloud
out and away beyond accustomed sights
and sounds and creeds and breeds.
I've blessed my wings a thousand times
because of doors they held ajar
to aspirations of a seeking youth--
the vistas and horizons that receded endlessly
though I pursued them furiously--
the ceaseless challenge to orbit beyond
the perimeters of the antiquated
and weary traditions and dogmas
which anchor men to the bloody past.
I've blessed my wings because they are
the physical evidence of the moral concept
that to mankind nothing is impossible--
that creation is his heritage and that
the language of God is articulate
and intelligible in the laws of the universe.
Time is not the measure of rising and setting suns
but the processing of experience from which
the truth emerges for all who run to read.
For all of this and more beside
which points to the stars and beyond,
I've blessed my wings a thousand times.
But there is a nearer ecstasy!
The wings that bear one home--the song
of the engine when the homebound leagues
fold the homesick heart in their embrace--
the joy of letting down to the place
the heart has never left--the thrill
of returning to the one spot on earth
beloved above all others--home!
And, if it be "Home for Christmas,"
how thrice blessed are my wings.
GILL ROBB WILSON
--------------------------------------------------
...and a merry Christmas to all.
Ron "Happy Hogmanay!" Wanttaja
for where they've carried me--
high up the ladders of the wind--
far out across the prairies of the sky
to lands my fathers never knew
and shores my kindred never trod--
threading the corridors of templed cloud
out and away beyond accustomed sights
and sounds and creeds and breeds.
I've blessed my wings a thousand times
because of doors they held ajar
to aspirations of a seeking youth--
the vistas and horizons that receded endlessly
though I pursued them furiously--
the ceaseless challenge to orbit beyond
the perimeters of the antiquated
and weary traditions and dogmas
which anchor men to the bloody past.
I've blessed my wings because they are
the physical evidence of the moral concept
that to mankind nothing is impossible--
that creation is his heritage and that
the language of God is articulate
and intelligible in the laws of the universe.
Time is not the measure of rising and setting suns
but the processing of experience from which
the truth emerges for all who run to read.
For all of this and more beside
which points to the stars and beyond,
I've blessed my wings a thousand times.
But there is a nearer ecstasy!
The wings that bear one home--the song
of the engine when the homebound leagues
fold the homesick heart in their embrace--
the joy of letting down to the place
the heart has never left--the thrill
of returning to the one spot on earth
beloved above all others--home!
And, if it be "Home for Christmas,"
how thrice blessed are my wings.
GILL ROBB WILSON
--------------------------------------------------
...and a merry Christmas to all.
Ron "Happy Hogmanay!" Wanttaja