Destined to Fly


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—


But clipped.


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


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