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Wings

You were a bit
Uneasy at first
To try out the large
Wings hanging
From your back.
You said,
“They’re
Too heavy for
me to properly
Spread them and
Take flight.”
“It takes some
Effort to get used to,”
I told you,
Spreading my own
Wings.
Your eyes followed the
Movement of my feathers,
Watching it like a bear would
Watch her cubs.
You attempted to open
Your own wings,
Grunting with each try.
“Open them,”
I said. I held out
My hand for you
To take.
You ignored it.
“I cannot open them,”
You cried, falling to
Your knees in frustration,
Tears escaping your eyes.
“Come, child,” I said,
again offering my hand,
“I will show you.”
You took my hand and
Hoisted yourself up
From the rocks and shook
Off the dirt caught in the
Delicate feathers of your
Wings.
I placed my free hand on
Your heart, beckoning you to
Do the same.
“You feel that?”
I asked.
You nodded.
“That is the beating of your heart,
which reminds you that you are here
on this Earth for a reason.”
I placed your hand,
That I was holding,
Atop your head.
I said,
“In here, is your brain,
which has the power to
think, create, believe, and reason.”
I stroked your wings,
Gently, lest they were sensitive,
And said,
“You must use both your heart and head
to trust that you can do it,
that you can spread your wings.”
You looked at me in disbelief,
Disbelief at information you
Surely have heard many,
Many times in the course
Of your life.
You said,
“That cannot be the
secret.”
I smiled and said,
“Try it.”
I watched as you closed
Your eyes in
Concentration.
Slowly, hesitantly
Your wings started to rise.
Your eyes opened in surprise
At the feeling of a weight being lifted.
You were ready to soar.
I smiled.
“Shall we?” I asked.
And so hand in hand,
We took flight into
The light of the setting sun.






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