Conspiracy

Sometimes I want to fly
but I find my wings clipped
I circle and flap
but I ain’t leaving the ground.

I know I can fly; so I think,
the winds court my oars; beckoning my ears
I flirt with the wind, a sort of inhale
and it greets me as its kin.

Then I look to the sky,
The heavens tell a conspiracy
one I know too well
and I bow to the King

Let his wisdom be the ultim,
His guard – my bounds,
His bequeaths – my provision,
and his purpose – my mission.
Selah.

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You know there are times when it feels like you’re just going round in circles… Who has ever been there? Care to share?