Flight or fight

You should know that I am leaving in the morning.
Flying away with the beginnings of a faith to meet faith’s next mysterious border.

Over the sea through skies.

Do you think that compares to the parted sea?

Both are miracles.
Metal weight glides on the propulsion of science, obedience, blessing.
How were the walls of Red sea, less or more amazing,

as they opened God’s path that led thousands of feet to the other side of faith?
Look east.

See the silver rock flying toward the rising sun, ready to slay a giant.

It is me. Sailing from the faithful Hand.

And it is you. You rest your spirit quietly in my wildness.

You belong inside of my borders.
Look up now.

I am ready for the borders of an unknown nation.
I am ready to begin.


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