To Flight

25 December 97

Thoughts beating against my skull
like a thousand birds straining
to flight,
fluttering madly to escape the narrow confines
of this small and feeble mind.
Turn not a phrase,
but thought follows
to wreck its vengence 'gainst
a sullied, vague, structure.
Capture these frantic creatures
with trembling hands
that fervently wish more than they might obtain.
Seeking each feathered sonnet,
lit with brilliant verse and intelligent voice,
I stumble along ~~
ever yearning.
And, in night, stilled and quiet,
I hear their plaintive songs
eloquent with the longing
inherent to my restless soul
that speaks of learned trappings
that do not impart freedom.
Thumping, thumping, in my breast,
these angry wings that beat my heart bruised,
seeking that which they cannot obtain
here in the limited scope 
of this narrow and vague mind ~~
intellect tempered with reason,
reasonably.


© 1998, Tara Tambollio
All rights reserved.



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