My Wings Are Still Forming

My Wings Are Still Forming

Be careful what you think of me 

because my wings are still forming

Although I am suspended 

in the marble shell of my own fear, 

It shall not be so always,

so you ought to be careful what you think of me 

because my wings are still forming.

Even in the garden of flowers 

clothed in the fragrance of an outdoor majesty,

surrounded by trees that know,

you ought to be careful what you think of me

because my wings are still forming.

I cannot yet take flight for I am a sister 

suspended to my place, the place where no one notices

and no one really cares, but my time of flight,

It comes and I will step beyond this frozen place

to become what God has meant me to be.

Like a thousand before me and thousands yet to come

afraid to live, afraid to die, waiting, waiting for the moment.

you must be careful with me 

my wings are still forming and I will fly.

A few more seasons, a few more comings of the new moon

and the dawn shall come, and you shall look for me,

the one you took for granted, always there, never speaking,

never sharing, always available and never loved.

You should have been careful what you thought of me

because as you wake to wonder about the stone one

who has so long decorated the garden, waste no thought.

My wings are formed and I have flown.

And you, you are left where I used to be.