Under the shadow of wings,
near the heart,
desperation flees;
encompassing peace
remains.

Yesterday I panicked, clinging
on to vanities—not
under wings of eagles
regal flight.

Where is refuge from
intruding thoughts of
nothingness, pushing
grace aside so
subtly?

I do not remember real
security.

Running a race to the
end of the course—
finding victory for each runner—
up to last place;
grace in the refuge of your
embrace.