I Don’t Remember Growing These Wings

Wings
Wings

I don’t remember growing these wings

But I do remember the slow crawl

Of day to day existence

To work, to eat, to sleep, to crap

That worminess

Side-by-side with look-alikes

I don’t remember growing these wings

But I do remember the isolation

In that one room cocoon-like cabin

Decorating my walls

With a line here and a line there

A very simple elegance

I don’t remember growing these wings

But I do remember the pain

Of breaking the reins that tethered me

Of the fire shooting up my spine

Of the explosion in my head

And the soothing golden honey flowing in my veins

I don’t remember growing these wings

But I do remember emerging into the light

Tightly wrapped, scared, vulnerable

Hiding from the others

Still wanting to fit in

But feeling alien and unsure

I don’t remember growing these wings

But I feel the wind of creation beneath them

As I am lifted from one height to another

And I see their color reflected on my walls

And hear their beat and rhythm in my feet

I don’t remember growing these wings

But know enough to keep them furled

Hidden behind black and baggery

Exploring them in Sierra’s peaceful shadow

Dancing and drifting in silence

Before exploding into color

I don’t remember growing these wings.

(c) bjbeyers 2013

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