Sunday Scribblings: Wings

The first thing that came to mind for this subject was an audio cue, a line from an old Bill Monroe song: "Give me wings, that I might fly away to Glory."

I thought of the close link between the Spanish spelling of Alas (wings) and Almas (souls). Why that constant association between the soul and wings? Has it to do only with angels? Probably not as the reference to one's heart being light as a feather seems to have been a part of ancient Egypt's religion.

There are so many kinds of wings and feathers one might wonder just which ones are the ones to do with souls. Are they are the tiny wings of hummingbirds, muscular whirling rotors rotating faster than the eye can see, allowing quick and precise access to the nectar hidden in the recesses of colorful flowers? Are they the enormous bouffants of the ostrich, largely useless to the bird, but coveted by Victorian ladies for their hats? Are they the "wings of the snow white dove," often alluded to in Christianity, which signify peace or allow the softest of landings on the grass? Or are they the gliders, the wings of eagles and red-tailed hawks which allow them to soar high above us earth-bound creatures for hours on end, seemingly without effort?

I would choose the raptors, the ravens, and the turkey vultures. Watching their endless drifting on unseen currents gives my heart wings. And when my heart takes flight I have no need for physical wings.