A Time to Fly

For Iris.

I know more about fear and loss than love

I have made bed with regrets and hopeless opportunities

but the irony remains: that the things we want most

are the things we are most afraid to ask for

that when we should be shouting from rooftops

we sit stunned by our own silence

that we work harder at cooling our flames

than to let them consume and transform us.

 

& so for a while, fear overcomes love.

the grey status quo attracts us like moths

away from the frightfully exciting unknown,

& we tie the deepest of our thoughts

to heavy stones that keep them down –

& our words, though meaningful,

can never be anything more than games.

 

but like a flip of a coin, fate changes,

drawn from my travels to the scent of you.

the sight of you unties every string,

your voice lightens my weight and plucks all stones

until I am nothing but words born from words.

& you stand in the distance like hope undreamt

& say, ‘Come. Come’.

 

but in my way is the deepest of chasms.

the winds howls, the depth is unfathomable

and edges crumble into unyawning space

& You, stood on the other side, waiting.

You motion this time ‘come, come’

in your eyes you know something

in your smile, the greatest of mysteries,

faith.

 

I look around at the impossibility of the situation.

if I was a stone I would throw myself to you

If I was an arrow then I would aim for your heart

but I am neither. there are no stones, or rope or even branch!

What there is though, to my amazement –

6 feet down in the smallest of crevices – is a nest!

In the sky circles the mother-hawk, screeching urging

and in that nest, nurtured by the elements, buffeted

and made strong by the wind is a young hawk, flapping.

 

I have never known a hawk to be afraid of flying

I have never known a river to stop flowing or not find a way

I have never known the sun not to rise

or the moon not to shine –

I have never known a hawk to die and regret not trying.

and so it flapped it immense virgin wings – flap, flap, flap!

and the flames grew in it’s feathers & the wind

poured into it’s veins until it lifted and hovered for seconds

& suddenly dropped from out of sight!

To re-appear a moment later, shooting into the air

to meet the sun and it’s mother.

 

birds care not about velocity and formulas for updrafts

how is falling into flight any different from falling in love?

& so I understood what the hawk understood

that I was not a man against his times but one made of seasons

that I had never stopped flowing just blind to my reasons

that I never had to regret if I found the meanings.

that when I look into your eyes I am electric

that with each kiss flames transforms me

and there comes a time to stop the business of fearing.

that there is a time to dance. a time to laugh. a time to eat.

a time to smile, a time to kiss. a time to love.

& like all birds, a time to fly.

 

 

12 November

Reviews

[Hsnx]

fly..be free from all the cages you have been held in...very nicely expressed...it very nice to read..and we can feel it too...

[Emily B]

these are good words to come back to

[Tony]

The author has a wonderful way with words. Hey! The four W's! I like this poem in the first two verses, after that it becomes tedious and loses the tone of it's conception.
The first two verses compress a lot of meaning into a few words, prophetic and philosophic. The moment too fly has arrived, and the reader is reminded that when we travel to new and unknown places, our baggage is made up of our reservations as much as our anticipations.
Very good work here.

[Emily B]

Fly, man, fly! What an amazing write! I felt up-lifted, impatient to begin a journey. Any journey would do after reading of your adventure. You paint amazing pictures with words.

[Jessica M.]

beautiful.
i especially love the part about being stunned by our own silence.
it's so honest.