To dream to hope, to have aspirations and desires. To have a desire to better your standing, position your life experience.
Upon the porch I sit in my favourite chair, worn by the countless times my body has moulded itself to it’s frame and hear the familiar creak of the timbers underneath. You stare with jaded cynical eyes and watch once more as birds takes flight from the brush and pond and soar high into the air.
Flight, Freedom, escape. AHH how would it be to to grow and spread wings and soar and fly. Fly far, far away
Far from all the madness that engulfs me and mine.
What bird would I be. The vulture with scrawny neck that picks at the carcass once the lion has his share?
The crafty magpie that steals the bauble by cunning to make its living?
Perhaps I am the stork that delivers that babes when called upon.
No, I am done with these old archetypes that have been forced upon me. I transform and grow into the regal swan. Grace and elegance aplenty I would be. With wings as white as the driven snow. A neck and head that shape one half of a heart. A bird of beauty not only to the eye but in its very nature. I would flap my wings and ascend into the sky higher and higher leaving the earth and all of its unhappiness tied to it.
If only, if only. If only if were not for the chirp of my little signets still young in age and needing the protection of their mother. I unfurl my wings and they swim to me gathering under my long tipped feathers that shield and protect them from all harm as we glide down the river. A mother will always be there for her babies..
I exhale wistfully, the vision ends, my eyes open and the familiar creak of the boards beneath my feet fill my ears.
The onset of dusk arrives and wraps the sky like a dark velvety blanket, ensuring like a protective parent that the morning life begins to wind down. Paralleling this, I wind down and prepare myself for another night to go, wrapping myself tightly in blankets like a vertible Egyptian mummy. Uneasily I fall into sleep. My light sleep is normally punctuated by frequent periods of wakening anexity filled fight or flight responses.
But this time, this night, was different…
Header image: IgnisFatuusII