The Frizzled Fowl

A Poem by Michael Wade

CURRENTLY BEING UPDATED AND EXTENDED

Supposedly there is nothing to fear
I was told this frizzled fowl had wings,
unclipped,
that could soar to height never dreamed,
never imagined.
So why the embarrassment,
why the ackward merry go of blooming cheeks?
Why do I feel like I'm standing in front of a fury of strangers,
completely exposed?

This Shakespeare calls out to bright lights
beaming toward his stage
and wonders, "Is anyone even watching out there?
Is there still room out there for me?"

But how easily I forget my past
and what God has brought,
here I lay may Ebenezer
in remembrance of how far he has fought.
He'll restore these dry bones,
He'll give me a place to call home.
No need to disappear Houdini,
everything is in its right place.