Flesh of my flesh, in essence your own;
I nurtured and loved what God gave on loan;
Our time in the water has quickly slipped by;
I gave you your wings – child, take to the sky.
in my shroud,
I am blind to Your brilliance.
Larval squirmings, procedural dues, envelop
mind and consume corpse so that all I feel is the pain
of becoming; the razor-edge ritual, this
infernal breakdown of internal structure,
this corpuscle soup I slaver and
squirm in throttles
in order to fly,
legs must be leashed. In order to soar,
wings must be hammered thin as air. Remake me.
Reset each molecule, retune each cell, that each atom
would sing the frequency of its conception, that
restoration and healing would croon cocoon.
That larval limping and caterpillar
crawl would collapse, gutted.
And the writhe, be
Spread your wings and fly, my soul,
though heart is frozen still;
you’re not yet what you could be,
but perhaps you never will.
You can soar where eagles dare
if you just trust the sky;
tarry not for perfect wind,
just spread your wings and fly!
Do you ever find yourself thinking, ‘I’ll do that when…..’ Why wait? Today is as good a day as any to learn how to fly…