oh fly on whitened wing
you whose breast does redly stream;
you with fiery streaks for all
whose devotion shows no seam.
lift the load and haul the cart
guard the gate and fight the foe
teach the weary ones to be empower’d
show the haughty where to go
build the wall and mend the roof
start the fire and tend the flame
lead the lost to the right path
help the sure to do the same
cut the wood and smooth the grain
plow the ground and sow the seed
raise the humble to their heights
grow the little to great deeds.
This was written on the way to Twelfth Night where I knew Dziuginte
was going to receiving her well-deserved Pelican. I wrote this while I flew down to the event, inspired by all that I have seen her do, and the endless, untempered cheer she wears as she does it. (Except when she’s crying at my singing…and even then she’s usually smiling too.) I read this to her at her Vigil.