Rising

I would knead the unswallowed lumps back down

til’ our knitted brows lay smooth again

together we could untie the knots tangled in our guts

so our chests might be refilled with sparkling new treasures

Then, when unexpected wings burst from our lightened backs

we’ll  know that sweet whispering wind is not far behind

just waiting, to lift us skyward

 

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To Be Free

I wish to be

a summer leafy dogwood tree

or the little blue songbird

that might perch on me

or maybe,  just the fly-so-high wings

of the little bird who sings

amidst the leaves

of me, a summer dogwood-maybe thing

then surely I’d soar

through a clear blue sky door

above the sad world of you

becoming the wind and more

higher than higher than high

forever unquestioning why

and free; so free

never, ever again, to die