And as I stand here, the Rain lashing across my
face, the Wind brushing through my hair, the World
spinning under my feet, I spy the Sun upon the
horizon, rising like a fiery God. And O Lord, I can see
past this earthly sod. Into the breaking dawn. To the
place that is never gone. And I say to the light that a-
waits me there, dear Lord, I am yours. I am yours and
I am ready to soar. Ready to take flight, to leave what
was given, and to take what awaits. So as I stand with
the rock of years under me, the lives I led a memory,
I ask that you take me. Take me into the flight over
the waters where I shall fly. Through the clouds where
nothing dies. Toward the Sun in these closing eyes. Into
all things that become the fire. For you have given me
wings, dear Lord, and for it I am free. Because you given
me wings, I soar! I soar! Into the Sun that beckons me…
this poem appears in our print quarterly number eight, Dear South Africa.
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