Trouble swells, and we envy the birds—

the way they climb the winds with wings

and wander far and settle where

they please while we have only feet

and gravity to hold us to

the earth.

We squirm, as if our royal birth

were some mistake; we sniff, as do

the monsters at forbidden meat;

we fret and spurn our golden air;

we sigh, as if we could not sing,

as if we had no home within Your words.