Fleeting Poem by ... ...

Why do I feel
The need to spill
The overwhelming
With a quill,
This need to organise
And arise
To overcome the hill,
To see beyond
The limit of eyes
To exercise my will,
To break this bond
Challenge the sight
To make my soul still,
To find a door
Perfectly right
To always hope for more,
Banish the might
Of love
Accepting what is in store,
To soar away
Like the dove
Returning as I swore.

If I stay
Do not ignore
My hidden wing,
Another day
I must explore
The jungle of the king,
To be bound
By an unseen shore
Circular as the ring,
Heed the sound
Of the end of war
For the heart will sing,
What is lost is found
The infant is crowned
No more is the string,
That which held
My broken wing
Is but a shard of discarded memory,
No more quelled
The thing is free
From the curse of being,
What is me
Is now alive
With the power of seeing.