Winged things
are meant to fly,
like birds, and planes,
and dragonflies…
angels…
I had dreams once –
winged creatures
who soared
limitless skies…
free…
Until fear –
a cruel master –
caged my heart,
clipped my spirit…
broken…
Age and loss
turned the page,
locks illusions
unravelled…
escape…
Vulnerable,
I walk, remember
wings, lift my face
to inclement weather…
fly…
(Written in response to Willow Poetry’s weekly challenge: What do you See?)
I enjoyed the circular structure of this poem. Always come back to the flying…
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Thanks, LuAnne.
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A very lovely poem, and fear steals our dreams from us can truly be harsh. Beautifully expressed.
Jordan
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Thanks for your kind words, Jordan.
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your poetry has a progression, from youth to maturity, from fear to vulnerability, each phase having its own insecurities. beautiful “wordsmithing” here!
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Thank you Gina – ‘de-caging’ ourselves takes time.
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A true story and description!!
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Yes it is! Thanks
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This really resonates with me, V.J. My wings have been clipped also, but I try to soar whenever the opportunity presents itself. Maybe not physically, but in my imagination and joy of photography. 🙂
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Same here… too late for physical
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Beautiful!
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Thanks, Jazz
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Fear really does have the ability to stunt and restrict – it “caged my heart, clipped my spirit”. Beautifully written xx
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Thanks you. As you know illness can escalate fear. There needs to be a pulling back
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Well written V.J., you can now soar without borders.
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Thanks.
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This really spoke to my heart V.J.. Thanks so much for sharing your incredible talent with us.
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You are sweet , Terri. Thank you
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Elegantly beautiful xx
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Bless you.
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Very poignant. Beautifully penned.
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Thank you
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My pleasure.
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