‘He will cover you with his feathers and under his wings you will find refuge’ – Psalm 91:4
Amongst the blue of open sky,
Two wings of a lonely bronze.
A foreigner in lands unknown,
A lost call, echoing, gone.
The feathers fall, the feathers rise
With delicate fluttering,
They hesitate, in trembling breath,
As isolation floods in.
A silhouette across the sun
Brings light to date unclear.
The warmth of His wings surround her,
As he takes away her fear.
The picture of purest glory,
He is the King above all kings.
He covers her with His feathers,
She finds refuge in his wings.