WHY THE WHITE DOVE HAS BROKEN WINGS
One day I saw a white dove flying, soaring to the sky It dances against the wind of time just to reach Mt. Olympus… her palace! Other gray doves wanted to accompany her but she always commented with deep conviction, “No and I’m sorry for I can’t afford distractions at this time of the day. I must always keep flapping my wings.” Clouds turned from cirrus to cumulus. Each flap of wings made her higher and higher So other gray doves can’t reach her. They say, “She’s unreachable.” She heard them. Clearly. Like an echo that so deafening. It shot an arrow across her heart. A bull’s-eye! That’s the time a feather dropped from the sky. From then on, I noticed a difference from the way the white dove flies. From just looking straight ahead like a telescope, she glanced back and forth. She’s looking everywhere. Searching. But she never stops from flapping her wings. Still the same intensity. Still vigorous. Still hard but graceful. But on the 6th day o...