Holy Wings

by Yenta

In the early morn I swim
out to where the tops of trees and
rising sun meet the water’s surface.
I feel blessed and dip beneath
three times, an every day baptism.

I float and watch the eagle
overhead scanning for breakfast.
Will it be a baby loon or a northern pike?
Or maybe it will be me.

Would an osprey
Swoop down to snatch me
by the nape of the neck
as I swim the cold waters?

Or maybe a flock of loud but cheerful
chickadees, chirping and plucking at my bed clothes
will lift me up and drift me home
in the midst of a sweet dream?

Or how about the red winged black bird
with a shrill warning call? Will she scold me
from overhead with an urgent message?
“Be careful, now is not your time!”

No dive bombing barn swallows
or bird kites, please,
looping out of control
and bringing anxiety to all.

And as it is a winged departure
may “thy holy wings dear Savior,”
descend upon me.
Take me safely home
As I trust it will truly be.