Wings Will Come: Journey – Part 15 “Wings Will Come”

The last poem of my collection about my family’s move to Arizona ends with a poem I have shared before. In my family’s journey is sadness and joy, challenges and blessings. God has been with us through all these things and will continue to transform us as we go forward.
 
This is the end of the 15-poem collection called Wings Will Come: Journey. Thanks for reading along and sharing these moments with me.
 
I am now going to move to posting new poems every 2 weeks. Look for the next one a couple weeks from now!
 
God bless,
Morgan
 

“Wings Will Come”
Reflection
 
it is invasive and clings
    around me, a constant reminder.
trapped: changing and no way
      to chew free of bindings 
            I spun myself with wishes and choices
         that I never knew could lead here.
but in the gauzy darkness i
know the wings
    will come.
 
you have been hoping for your own day
         in the open 
     for even longer than I have.
I cannot see you anymore,
     but somewhere in your own cocoon
  you are growing colors like 
      Arizona sunsets
that are outlined with your bold resolve
     like an inked sketch of
     your future.
 
let’s meet in the air,
you and I.

 
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wings will come by Morgan Prettyman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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Wings Will Come: Journey – Part 14 “The house will fill again”

This poem is about the first day my brother and I were alone in the family house, which we would be renting from our parents as they moved to Arizona. It was a surreal day, but we promised ourselves that however empty the house felt now, we would work to fill it with the same love and hospitality that our parents had in their many years there. Sometimes God asks us to stay behind to be the new light.
 
Next week, I conclude the story of my family’s move and God’s goodness in the change in the fifteenth poem of my collection, “Wings Will Come: Journey.”
 
God bless,
Morgan
 
“The house will fill again”
The first day
 
hello, empty house.
we do not want to face you yet
but here we are.
 
we come back from the airport
confused, just waiting
to see Dad at his office desk
working too early already
or Mom bent over her sewing machine.
every hour is another rain shower,
but we push through.
 
we build and move,
and pray and learn.
 
the house will fill again.
 
together, brother to sister,
we promise that we will
keep the invisible spirit of the house
alive: open doors and safe haven,
a legacy of hospitality our family
embedded into the foundation
of our house and our hearts.
 
Come to the nest
where we keep safe
as we learn our wings.
 
 
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Wings Will Come: Journey – Part 13 “Traveling Bard”

My mom was the last of my family to move out west to Arizona. As the number of days to her departure dwindled, we spent time together reading, watching, and discussing old favorite stories. My mom has always been a woman of stories, and she instilled that same love in my brother and me. Through books and movies in the last week, we found strength in cherished memories and encouragement in the tales that had shaped our imaginations and philosophies since childhood. In these hours, I believe God helped ground us in familiarity and then gave us the grace to turn to the next chapters.
 
To catch up for the past few weeks, I will be posting several poems of the collection in short succession. Look for the fourteenth poem of my collection, “Wings Will Come: Journey.”
 
God bless,
Morgan
 
 
“Traveling Bard”
To Mom
 
you and I have been reading
a story together while you
flood recipe cards with ink.
we sit amidst boxes, boxes, boxes
and share a tale of hellos and goodbyes.
 
you, my brother, and I have been watching
one of our favorite old films of action, wit,
and adventure while we huddle together
remembering decades of our everyday journeys
that have tested our courage to the quick.
 
you, my brother, your soul-sister, and I have been playing
a trivia game that dredges up details from one of the oldest
stories that unites us: one of a long way forward
to great change. before it is over, we four
crowd in the dark around a TV screen to see a preview
of a new start to another cherished story that we’ll see completed
from different corners of the earth.
 
you have been a storyteller to me
since I had ears to hear.
you are off to be a traveling bard
while I keep by the fireside
until sun comes and I go
to live out the lessons nestled in
your tales.
 
 
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Wings Will Come: Journey – Part 11 “Just Us”

My brother drove west with my father to help him get settled in my parents’ new house in Arizona. After a few weeks, I flew out to meet my brother for our friends’ wedding in New Mexico, after which he and I flew home together. It had been almost a month since we’d seen each other, and the weekend trip in New Mexico was full of catching up and then looking ahead at the last steps of the move. One thing I know for certain is that my brother was one of the greatest blessings God gave me throughout this time. Without his calm, wisdom, faith, and support, I don’t know I would have gotten through. This poem is for Duncan, brother and friend.
 
Next week, I continue the story of my family’s move and God’s goodness in the change in the twelfth poem of my collection, “Wings Will Come: Journey.”
 
God bless,
Morgan
 
 
“Just Us “
To Duncan
 
sandy-bright glare of
New Mexico highway flashes by
while brother and sister
fill the rental car with stories
from East and West,
swapping tales like trading cards.
 
it is just us out here,
rolling on to celebrate
the new beginnings
of our friends in the mountains.
 
it is just us going back.
we don’t feel ready.
we don’t have answers.
in the pitch-black drive
winding out of the mountains
to a morning flight out
we figure one thing:
we are going home.
what that is has changed
and will change.
we are half of our family,
East to their West.
 
Even unready, I
am at least not alone.
we won’t have the answers,
but we will have enough.
We say to each other:
we have gotten this far.
 
brother and sister
take flight home.
what that is has changed
and will change
into new beginnings.
 
 
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Wings Will Come: Journey – Part 9 “Refuge”

Amidst the challenges and scurry of moving my parents and grandfather out to Arizona, another blow struck our family. My grandmother had cancer. New pressures and worries poured on top of our pile of concerns, but my mom was quick to call out the blessing in the whirlwind: that she would be moving out to join her mother in Arizona at a time when her mother needed her the most.
 
I do not believe God orchestrates every happening in our world, but I do believe that when we listen to His call, He pulls us toward paths where we can help others in ways we never imagined.
 
Next week, I continue the story of my family’s move and God’s goodness in the change in the tenth poem of my collection, “Wings Will Come: Journey.”
 
God bless,
Morgan
 
 
“Refuge”
News of cancer
 
the news is cannon fire:
I hear the explosion
distantly, watch the shot
coming toward me but still
feel the hard shock of the impact,
and I fall in the rubble
of the ordinary.
 
in the talk of diagnoses,
next steps, surgery, and treatments
for your mother out west, who has been
excitedly waiting for your arrival,
you ask aloud: why?
but you are brave and steadfast
no matter that our outer walls
have taken blows tonight.
You pause to say: it is good we will
be there.
 
I don’t understand the Lord’s timing,
nor the whys of the world,
but I know He moves us
where He needs us, if we will go.
 
we stand back up,
face ahead, and wave
an ever-bold banner.
this far in, we know
He keeps our walls.
 
 
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Wings Will Come: Journey – Part 6 “Heralds”

My parents began to get ready for the move, but the enormity of the task soon made us question this decision. It was in those moments God spoke to us in unexpected ways, encouraging us forward. In your dark times, listen hard to the night, and you may find the message of hope you need.
 
Next week, I continue the story of my family’s move and God’s goodness in the change in the seventh poem of my collection, “Wings Will Come: Journey.”
 
God bless,
Morgan
 
“Heralds”
Doubts
 
preparations chew into
busy hours and restless weekends.
tasks climb on top of each other
to beg our attention.
exhausted, we stare into the shadow
they cast over the dream.
 
in the shade of the movement,
questions stitch themselves
to our skin and hide the
true muscle and bone beneath.
 
in a weary ride home
of a shadow-day
you speak to my father
in a radio song calling
for change.
When he looks ahead
he sees a license plate
for his destination
hanging in plain view.
 
today a song of change
and Arizona-tags leap to the top
of the shady mountain
to proclaim direction.
 
we follow unassuming heralds
and shed our doubting scales.
 
(For more on the doubting scales reference, see Act 9:1-19)
 
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Wings Will Come: Journey – Part 5 “Typeset”

When my parents moved to Arizona, my grandfather went to move in with them as well, unseating one of the steadfast people in my life. This change shook out both memories and new stories from him, reminding me of the long years he has been there for me and sharing in words his deep, but quiet love for me and my family. It reminds me, too, of how God’s love worked for my family during this time: often quiet, but always steady and always strong.
 
Next week, I continue the story of my family’s move and God’s goodness in the change in the sixth poem of my collection, “Wings Will Come: Journey.”
 
God bless,
Morgan
 

“Typeset”
To PopPop
 
you’re going, too.
for some reason this
     feels the most surreal 
so far.
 
you are a
      solid, stoic rock I remember
      from my tiniest days as I 
soaked in the world
      and every story from the old days.
you’d tell them letter by letter
to us like type set into a printing press.
     roll on the ink and another tale
falls into curious hands.
     but your stories are going
away now.
 
in the months to come I’ll hear
so many stories from you: 
      some I know well and
      some I never did.
as you step outside your pale green
home on the hill and look westward
       toward unknowns,
you speak your once-upon-a-times,
your questions, your joys, and your worries.
 
your love has long been quiet and thick as
snowfall, tucked in around the landscape
     in a generous quilt.
unexpectedly around the kitchen table
your love makes it into print like your
old family stories,
              and perhaps this is your greatest family story
                yet.
I will remember these pages,
      read aloud in your deep, rich voice,
when you said we are precious,
      you are proud of us,
      we’re your world. 
 
I put my inked type beside yours in reply:
       you have been our world, too
and though our worlds are stretching now
     to make room for change,
we share the same skies and
the same stories, in new chapters.

 
 
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