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The Call Of The Sky
By Phyllis Moses - 1968 (phylmoses@msn.com)
What lies beyond the zone of clouds,
that whispers urgently to me?
The length and breadth and sweep of sky,
Suddenly, my soul is free!
To East, o'er marshes, silent, deep,
Spread on watery sod;
Then West, with widening turns, gaze down,
On grain, yielding gold-glints up to God.
Northward, plains flow quickly on,
To blend with rolling purple hills,
That rise and fall with ageless grace,
'Round placid lakes, deep and still.
Did e'er a bird see more than this,
Beyond the confines of the land?
Soaring up on graceful wings,
Descending then, on sights so grand.
Oh, Plane of Earth, with silver wings,
Streak onward, sure and high;
Kissing clouds, saluting sunsets,
Hurtling through the vaulted sky.
Not fear of heights, nor space unclaimed,
Lures me from my Ship of Flight;
The pulsing voice of vibrant engines,
Screams boldly of their lusty might.
On we roar, through distant dawn,
Hold high the stars, let them glow!
Through infinity of time and space,
Piercing veils of thunder as we go!
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