Polluted Cranial Airspace
Tiny airplanes fly around in my head
Searching for message banners to tow
Messages written by an evil little man,
Daring me to stop them if I can.

When the pilot spots one waiting
He throttles the engine steady,
Pulling slowly back his center stick,
Hooking the banner is quite the trick.

Now soaring steeper than steep
Dragging lies so up up high,
For all the world in me to so see
A parade of airy tales I tell to me.

I am still learning to deploy
The tricky banner tow release:
Calling out each unhelpful story,
Letting go all self-damning glory.

Banners flap-flapping from on high:
"Just my luck" is dropping fast
"No one understands me" too, and
"But what if?" is headed for my past.

"There's no use" is all aflutter,
"What was I thinking?" is flailing madly,
"They won't like me" can't be true
And "I can't change" is diving badly.

Thanks be to God, the Holy Spirit
Tells my spirit so true
As we are His, and polluted cranial airspace
"Release and renew is what I do."

Romans 8:16

by J Alan R

| Back to Index |