Let it Lift!

Dear God,
let me soar in the face of the wind;
up --
up --
like the lark,
so poised and so sure,
through the cold
on the storm
with wings to endure.
Let the silver rain wash 
all the dust from my wings,
let me soar 
as he soars,
let me sing
as he sings,
let it lift me
all joyous 
and carefree
and swift,
let it buffet 
and drive me
but, God,
let it lift!

- Ruth Bell Graham
from Sitting by my laughing fire...