The Flight of the Soul, art by Orit Martin

The wings that stretched the heavens like clouds
I climbed upon. And long and ardently they bore me in their easeful flight.
They were strong.
Fireless they were…I was a puny burden, no more than dust.
The long, smooth surge I rested on became my final trust.

The heavens’ span and all the wide, thronged space of universes
is to these wings an habitable room, a stretching place for leisurely tours
and comfortable journeyings.
What, now that I have cast myself upon their strength, have I to fear?
And yet my heart is humbled into awe to be so near. 

~ By Barbara Dent, O.C.D.S.