Afraid To Fly

I chase dreams
never daring to rise
beyond the water line

keeping to the reeds
and shoreline of familiarity
afraid of being shot down

Afraid that dreams aren’t mine
to claim, that I am damned
doubled cursed as woman
and child of sin

I will fall often
drown in pools of stagnation
till one days these wings

A mind of their own
will lift me up
and catch those dreams.

(Afraid To Fly appeared here June 2019.
Art my own)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

37 thoughts on “Afraid To Fly

  1. Wow! Your art is wonder-full and gives a lift to your poetry. I love that those wings have a “mind of their own”. I think you have risen “beyond the waterline”. Be well and enjoy the summer rain.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks Sarah. Always love hearing from you. The farmers here are happy for the rain, but I have memories of my kids living in TO during relentless rains and the flooding – hope we don’t have a repeat.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Stunning artwork – my eyes keep finding something new where I just looked … love the overlapping and semi-symmetry and ooo, the hues!
    The poem, too, captivates … wondering about my “wings” as I fret about my legs … encouraging to consider “wings” might let me rise above bodily aging challenges …
    Footnote: if you once dreamed of becoming a visual artist, for sure that dream is flying happily about, catching eyes of stunned onlookers.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh, Jazz – you made my morning! As you know, my legs do not work well, so wings are my go to. And I have dreamed of being a visual artist – but often think I’ve left it too long to start. Your words are just the boost I’ve needed.

      Liked by 1 person

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