Wings

In some moments darkness is all I know.

Too tired to keep asking why,

I try to remember the pride I felt when I was only five,

the first time that I touched the sky.

Feet planted on the mountaintop,

with eyes lost in the clouds.

I wished with all my heart that I could fly.

I begged to be lost above the treetops and to dive with the calling birds.

Far away from any people,

far from any town,

I thought that day that nothing could ever bring me down.

So, I know,

When darkness finally calls me home,

when nothing is left and I’m finally alone,

I will go back to that place.

I will return to where I learned how big the world really is.

I will come back to the place that showed me how small I could feel watching the sun fall and the winds rise.

And, I know,

If touching the first sky to ever light wonder in my eyes,

is not enough to bring a smile to my lips or to quiet my mind,

then I will be fine.

There will be no tears left to cry,

I will walk through wildflowers to my death,

I will wet my feet in the mountain brook,

and scramble across familiar rocks.

I will see the wind in the forest,

hear the birds lost in afternoon talk,

and at the end of that walk

darkness is still all I see,

I will touch the sky.

One more time.

But this time,

I will learn to fly.