Five raised two,
From me to you,
Right out of the blue,
A gift of date-ridden clue.

Jumping is as jumping does,
A fun pastime to hop and fly,
From heel to floor - life's firm high-five,
Mechanical beyond the first onlook,
Subconscious as it is sublime,
To force the ground and feel it push,
Up to the sky and make you fly.

Surge "
The rate of change of acceleration
"

I feel a great surge,
It compels me forward,
It tickles my toes until I jump up,
It guides my hands to act,

To bless and petition,
To hope and intercede.

Whistling winds catch my ears in their melody as I move quicker,
And then at a quicker rate,
And then in a blink I'm moving faster than ever before.

Yet it is not my own power in these wings
Yet it is not my own breath in these lungs,
Yet I am not my own...
No worries, He's a better pilot than I.