C'est La Vie. September 23.

In three beats times two,
My wings, they grew and grew,
Jutting forth feathers -
Whose home are my limbs.
With golden tips,
I fingered the sky;
No soil could be greater than the mighty oxygen above.
Steady pace was fly,
And fly some more.
Against all odds,
Ten thousand parachutes waged war.

Man stopped by one day,
To tell me he could fashion air,
And that to breathe-
The sky could no longer fare.
Through toil and strife,
I bled-
So as he plucked my feathers-
I could be light,
And continue,
On my glorious flight.

September the Tenth

The lord hath filleth my cup today!

I recognize my happiness as my God. God permeates through my bloodstream and springs my heart to life.

ALIVE!
ALIVE!
I AM
ALIVE !


God, you are so sweet to my heart. Thank you for the seasons, the rhythms of the sky and the hue that so stains my eye. I adore you. Thank you for this love. You shine so that I may so the same. You grant me life when death is trending. You are, you are and I'm sorry for ever denying you in the wake of my folly. I breathe for you, God in Heaven. Because you are in the air around me. I do not know why I love you so, I just do. It is in my makeup, it is natural intuition. And I want to shout it in the gallows of the darkest where my heart once hung, that you, my God, are.