Thought it would be different.
The closest we would ever be
to gliding in the silent twilight
on a sea of dreams.
Took the time to ask the questions
and read the answers in the leaves.
Listen to the wind’s soft whisper,
telling us how we would be.
Yet, here we are,
only just holding on.
Travail and constant struggle.
Our hair tinged with soot
and our skin burned.
Limbs broken,
and bodies scarred.
Eyes fretful now,
and full of sorrow.
This journey
has been more a trauma
than a dream.
But we’re still here,
still holding on
to our tiny piece
of this reality.
We have made it ours
through time,
and sweat, and tears.
And blood.
So much blood.
There is much
that we did not expect
when we left.
No one mentions
the turbulence up here.
No one speaks of all
it talks to fall
and get back up again.
Running for the edge.
Climbing in up high.
Ready, set, jump.
We’re learning to fly,
one impact at a time.
I know one day we’ll get it right.
Touch the stars,
or come close enough
to be burned.
I wonder if we’ll ever learn
to turn our eyes away from the sky?
Just lay down in the dirt and die.
How do birds know which way to fly?
I think we’re just like them,
but born on the downside.
Take my hand,
one more time.
This is it.
Ready, set, jump.
See you on the other side.
DJR – 2023
