Grounded

How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
-"Ulysses", Alfred, Lord Tennyson

My attempt to fly was grounded again
Stopped by the forces behind the wind
So I skid on the ground and scrape my knee

Early eagerness accelerated me to high speed

Moving toward the mirage I had created

It's funny how visions are never belated

When in pursuit of a dream so dear

We pray for God to say, all clear

Believing He placed the dream inside me

Along with necessary tools for the journey

So each time I am grounded, I wince

With my heart battered, but ever since

I learned to place my flight in the hands

Of the insuperable, who rules all lands

Though my desire only grows,

Being rooted in Him, who knows,

An instantaneous understanding envelopes me

With an odd sense of feeling free