Wings...
they are beautiful...they are empowering.
They are fearless.
Whenever my heart uses hers
she becomes light.
She flies freely in the night...up amongst the stars...
gliding ever so peacefully, in curves.
She tip toes playfully
throughout the gossamer dream fields of the universe.
Her imagination is tickled by stardust
and she giggles
with hope.
She recharges her very essence
by
just.breathing.deeply.
and
taking it all in.
When she returns home
she carries with her a newly invigorated spirit.
A spirit that is grounded...and positive...
full of light
and full of peace.
She thrives and is full of love...
until
...totally unexpectedly...
her wings become useless...
clipped, crippled, broken, and bashed.
She becomes
chained and tethered...unable to soar.
Buried in nightmares
of reality
her spirit depletes and allows no
revitalizing breaths in.
There is no light...there is no peace.
In the darkness she chokes and begins to smother.
Struggling,
she moves in jagged lines...
with harsh edges...leaving scars in her wake.
Her memories of flight and freedom...
the days of simplicity, innocence, and playfulness...
vanish
into an inky blackness.
Life's experiences, indeed, wax and wane between extremes.
Life is cyclical
and her lessons are oftentimes difficult.
Because of that
we must grasp daily as much revitalizing energy
as we can...
from whomever we can...
whenever we can.
To spiritually survive...
we must remember we have wings.
We must continue to use them to become light
and to fly and to soar...
no matter what the
emotional weather conditions
of the heart, the mind, and the body may be.
“Be as a bird
perched on a fragile branch
that
she feels bending beneath her,
still
she sings away all the same,
knowing she has wings.”
~Victor Hugo
"Cactus Monday"
