Heron’s wings span six-feet wide
great grey appendages in rhythmic flight
Dragonfly wings are camouflaged,
propel elongated bodies who hover in sight
Monarch’s wings are stained-glass delicate
with each flutter, sprinkle fantasies of delight
My wings, imaginary, give me faith and hope
mechanisms of spirituality, my soul’s fire ignite.
(Image mine)
Running –
an allegory
for strife
for recovery
for all the shards
of a blown-apart life –
this mountain, this becoming
this chest-pounding flight.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
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)
Flight
wondrous, white
uplifting, embracing, alluring,
deeply stirring my soul –
escape.
(Written for Dark Side of the Moon’s 5-line challenge: Didatic Cinquain. Click on the link for further information and to join in.)
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?)
One Woman's Quest 