Where did I write?
Rolled should’ve stood
Floated downstream
Lamb bleating (mine)
Simulation lost
Scribbled on'da stalls
Windowless closet
Blowing rhythmic noises
Free of the shell
Blinded by fog
Wings in the dark
Hand in my hand
Out of the ashes
A phoenix is born
Finally landed
Precariously perched
Full steam ahead,
Clickety-clack
Mountains and creeks
Spring, summer, fall
Bang! Lights fade to grey
Cold winter has come
Steadfast on my perch
A prize first must be won
Stood tall and firm
Smile on my face
Toes curl board
Remain I in place
Bent knees looking down
Forget why I’m here
Thinking of jumping
And I finally fall
Hand reaches out
I start to fly
Sun on my face
Grinning inside
My heart opens wide
Wings feather and wax
Ascend to the sun
Without looking back
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem