The Messengers

I looked up to the blue above, to a flock of silent birds,

Their whiteness dimmed by only light

Their flight a shadow in my sight

I asked if weakness, they could take. They flew without a word.

I looked up again, to ask, to beg, to see if they would share

Their lovely little bit of air

Their basking glory, naught despair

I asked if they would take me up to see and be aware.

Ignored, but patience creased my brow, to wait for one to hear

And fluttered on the white wings south

I brought my hand up to my mouth

I whispered, “take my soul to Him” and then my vision cleared.