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I fly like a bird,
On the wings of thoughts.
The freedom of spirit,
What a joy to be sought.
The rays of morning sun,
Beauty of shimmering light
Make the spirit dance,
With unspeakable delight.
If the air is heavy,
With weariness of day
I reach high on hilltop,
With a spirit so gay.
Lifted from the earth below,
Fresh as the morning breeze
Moving east and westward,
Touching the tallest trees.
On the eastern horizon,
Joining the gorgeous sun
With the clouds of glory,
I touch the heavenly fun.
Round in chains of sickness,
Scared from events tragic
Can't hold the blithe Spirit,
On this carpet of magic.
The blessed gift of Faith,
In holy power of Divine
Sets fast on solid rock,
Gives straightness of pine.
Through toil, pain and suffering,
Life's precious gems have been bought.
Let me not forget them,
On 'these wings of thoughts'.
This poem was originally written by Late Rashida D. Barar, wife of Dr. Frank S.K. Barar. |
