Thursday Poem: Beneath Arching Wings

Beneath Arching Wings

And would you ever soar on up so high
All over these forests and mountainsides
While following the twists and turns below
Of my own bluest river under skies

Before you burn your wings in the hot sun 
And then go tumbling down to fall and land
Upon your waiting bed where I will be,
With arms held open, wide and ready, there

To carry you back again to this world
In time for you to start a bright new day
Out where no one can ever fly beyond
The mountains, far above the forest roof

Or see how small this world will look spread out
Beneath wide arching wings that seem to stretch
From horizon to horizon and hold
All possibility within their reach.