My wings they are such precious things,
Holding me up on these winds.
They are the lightness in my heart,
The creativity in my art.
Each one is different from the other,
Both a vibrant, loving colour.
They are strong and they are bright,
A candle to hold against the night.
Both have strength they do not claim,
Yet I see it, it burns like flame.
It scorches deep into my heart,
I hold it close, it can never depart.
Each feather is a tale to tell,
A moment passed, a time that fell.
Each is precious not to be touched,
Less the sentiment be lost.
My two loves they are my wings.
Oh such precious little things.
My two loves they are my soul,
A way to find a place that's whole.
My two loves they are my wings…
I hope those wings will always help you soar.