Friday, July 01, 2005
Flying Freedom
We are still waiting for the final approval on our apartment, but we are pretty sure we have it. It's not really a big deal, it's just a matter of proving that we actually have gainful employment enough to pay our rent. It's really a nice place and I have already mapped out what I'm going to do with it. However, since I have no other thoughts in my head except those of moving, I will copy a poem.
Wings fluttering lightly
Covered with the magic dust of change;
Was it so long ago that you were crawling?
And now you are flying.
Once you were a low thing,
Fighting to travel up the leaf to gather nourishment
Risking the bird's beak.
In your effort to eat, you destroyed the support which
Kept you alive.
Tired of this existence,
You built, from your own nature,
A wall around yourself.
Secluded from the outside world,
You felt safe and hidden.
And in your solitude you changed.
Kept from the pollutants of the outer environment
You became a new creature.
As you emerged from your safe haven,
What were your thoughts?
To where did you first direct your wings?
What flower did you land on?
Were it's leaves destroyed by others
Or was it untouched by naught but rain?
Delicate winged thing.
Fly.
Taste your freedom,
For you will never return to that which once you were.
Wings fluttering lightly
Covered with the magic dust of change;
Was it so long ago that you were crawling?
And now you are flying.
Once you were a low thing,
Fighting to travel up the leaf to gather nourishment
Risking the bird's beak.
In your effort to eat, you destroyed the support which
Kept you alive.
Tired of this existence,
You built, from your own nature,
A wall around yourself.
Secluded from the outside world,
You felt safe and hidden.
And in your solitude you changed.
Kept from the pollutants of the outer environment
You became a new creature.
As you emerged from your safe haven,
What were your thoughts?
To where did you first direct your wings?
What flower did you land on?
Were it's leaves destroyed by others
Or was it untouched by naught but rain?
Delicate winged thing.
Fly.
Taste your freedom,
For you will never return to that which once you were.
Denise Hassan
9-21-04
