Dropping Sticks of Prayer

Floating on the wings of the wind
Soaring higher to the peak
Of the mountain, looking for her friend,
Her heart to speak.
She finds him sitting high
Upon the tallest limb
Thinks longingly with a bird sigh,
"I'm in love with him."
She drops the stick she clutches,
Hoping that he will see.
The gesture his heart touches,
And he swoops down from his tree.
He grasps the stick she carried
And her heart goes pitter-pat.
They might be getting married!
And she tries again; with that
She shows him over again
How she feels and waits.
He catches the stick and then
Asks her on a date.
Together, up and up they fly
Until they go much higher
Than they will ever go in the future
Or ever have gone prior.
When they reach the summit the male
Eagle's talons with the female's lock;
They pull in their wings as wind assails
And drop through the air like a rock.
Their trust in each other placed,
They wait until the very end
To spread their wings and soar with grace
To be life-partner friends.

I drop sticks for you
From the mountain tops of prayer
Asking God to
Let you see me and care.
Longing for you to catch
My thoughts that I wish you
Could see as I watch
What you do,
But I know that I can't tell,
And it tears me apart.
I can't hint about my feelings;
I give God my heart.
I'm longing to make the upward assent
With you by my side,
To know you to a great extent
And in you confide.
But for now I wait
Simply dropping those sticks of prayer,
Seeking my emotions to abate,
My heart with God share.

For He has a plan.

Penguins' Perspective

Black splotches against
Cold whiteness.
Like Oreos in vanilla icecream.
Swirling around in the
Bleakness.
Gathering together against
The wind's chill.
Zooming in, one notices
The individuality
Versus the crowd
Of parents shielding their young.
A humorous sight--
Parents laboring
In fancy tuxedos.
What do they wish to instill in their young?
Black and white,
No gray, no color is present,
Strict.
Together they march
In one huddle--
An army of Distinction
With one purpose:
Surviving.
The rules of survival are
Definite.
Nothing can be left
Undone.
Death clenches from birth
And devours
In the moment of
Carelessness.
They look at their world of black and white
As perfection.
Not knowing of the rainbows
Beyond their icy world.
Frozen but families
Cold but caring
Seeking the right ways
To live.
So they continue
Huddling for heat,
Life on the snow
Under the world.