She is a hawk, fierce and proud and free.
Light as air but her gaze is heavy.
Plumage perfect, the sunlight seeing
the subtle selection of her colors.
Her wings, long and graceful—
Flight feathers torn by invisible ghosts.
Body chained by devilish doubts,
that send her crashing down.
Each time she leaps and drowns,
sinking, sinking, sinking.
Bruised brittle bones threaten to break
but she struggles and falls, and then again
never stopping, always leaping, reaching
slowly building faith, until finally—
the chains break, the heavy doubt, dust
her earthly prison no more
She is a hawk, proud and free
Born destined to fly