Chains & Wings

My wings are bound to
Flight where others walk
With softly cushioned feet
Through their life of gardens plush
I must climb to air too thin
For dreams to grow
The chains will rust but still
They leave a memory that
Binds to each of us our wings by chains of discontent

The gentle Lilly
born in compost of not so distant past
Rooted in the dying flesh
Binds dreams to its rotting earth
Yet those blooms so deeply
Dependent on roots so deeply bedded in the dying flesh
Whose wings are chained to earth bound needs
Yet cannot soar without the rotting flesh that feeds the roots

Wildness how you haunt me
My feathers softened by my flight
My weakened wings alone cannot
Attempt to land within your height
My hunger makes me circle
But near the soaring prey below

So where's the reward
The payment due
From years of searching
How goes the ending?
Where the possibilities
That filled my youth?
What now?

What choice have we that
Taste the flight but to
Accept the chains
And rotting flesh
That make the Lilly bloom
In expectation of direction and meaning for the flight

But the future that was filled with hope and reason
Ends empty without meaning.
The need for relevance
Is undiminished and
The opportunity for fulfillment
Gone as one emerging
From a tunnel to a
Frozen empty landscape
The horizon that was once
Filled is stark in
simple emptiness



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