Only You I See In My Skies

Your wings kissed my poor fingertips

A weak farewell–

Descend your might to God’s Hand, and blow me the moon.

It has been written with His Pen–Fate blesses 

Day to the Holiest Night–

Breathe Heaven’s night stars in my lonely sky.

By God, if Death prays upon the handicap of those wings;

My eyes shall refuse–I will never awake to sing.

Stretch those angelic arms into God’s ever-growing space–

Blow the moon to my lips; I await by The Throne for this embrace.