From tender grass his search is vain, To capture the prize he hopes to gain. To soar he knows must come within, From a heart that beats to always win. But God doth bring him boundless strength, No matter how long his search at length. For His will doth follow his every move, To let him soar and his heart to prove. That angels fly for all to see, And beauty comes not from just the tree. From where he rests between each flight, To soar on high another night. Across the plains he struggles long, To prove the sky is where he belongs, As he graciously climbs through the air. And tenderly meets his master there. And as he lands on his master's knee, He remembers why he left his tree, To show every man there down below, His soul will fly and he shall know. That God doth bring him boundless strength, No matter how long his search at length. For His will doth follow his every move, To let him soar and his heart to prove.
