Wings to Give

Might the mythical bird afford the answer?

From how many treetops
have I peered across the landscape
at tragedy’s shadows undulating
through minds of entrenched inertia,

Where consciousness became anesthetized,
wars became by default,
history perpetuated.

Nature’s insistence parts the branches,
blood-smeared faces look up,
gaze upon me,
smile upon me.

Their ignorance never born of peace,
stands firm amidst their opiate-mind harvest,
weapon of mass destruction for many,
weapon of survival for few bent over for life.

Yet…

They who trust colors of hope,
challenge the rainbows of darkness,
where mixed palettes of their labor

are cut into a forever mud.

Looking back as I settle in my nest,
Time’s tree is continually burning with aggression’s firestorm,
bullet-like laser beams become shooting stars

that light up non-celestial worlds
of skewed dreams,
where wild-pained eyes portend

continued vacuums of hopelessness,
void of wings.

To take flight…

To discover new vistas of hope,
unlike me where such potential

only finds continued journey

in the mythic world.

Yet, for you…

Find that place within,

where one’s nest embraces the harmony

of moon and sun offering energy

to help you be the best you are.

For others of lessor being …

If only I could loan you my wings,
these simple tendrils of spirit’s purity.

If only.