FREE TO FLY
Me? A wall flower, they say; an eagle I say. I sit here on the mezzanine and watch the beautiful people milling around aimlessly -glass in hand, smile on face, every hair and pleat in place. Listen in: “Oh, darling, that is such a darling dress; let me tell you about the most darling little nook on the most darling street in—would you believe—the most darling little chateau…” Peopled in like walls snug around them. Walls too complex to find a way out. Room too snug to take off in flight. What will they do when they realize they are in a maze, a maze of their own making? Me? No maze on this mezzanine. At any moment I may fly.
I want to pay tribute to wonderful people I have known, the wonderful country in which I live, the communities in which I have lived, the churches who have claimed me as their own, the God who sends shivers down my back when I really give him a portion of my time—well, maybe not shivers but tears flow easily in some of those most priceless times.
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