Breath When Angels Sing

poem written for a contest. Prompt was "Nine seconds of flying"

The lift beneath my wing,
The breath when angels sing.

Lofty melodies and harmonies,
Vault me over, spaciously and high.

But I hear an ancient cry,
Of falcons though it seems.

There is a hint of dry,
Battling in the sky.

Abruptly I'm pushed back,
By a staggering swing.

Downward I plunge as I,
Receive strength in perfect weakness.

Even as the last whisper of
Angelic song escapes my wing.

--
bladeofzion