Once upon a time I aspired
Climbed the heights my imagination gave me,
Claimed vistas – domes, plazas, spires –
Virtually reality.
But the little deaths came whispering,
Clambering,
Scaled the zephyrs circling my tower,
Breathed their bitter nonsense,
Poisoning my bower.
I let them weigh me, found myself wanting,
Wanted the safety of the ground,
Where, dull, half-dead,
I could at least not fear to fall.
They led me by both hands
And took me down.

But witness – that ground opened and I fell,
Survived,
And crawled the limits of my pit
Over and over,
Forgetting the taste of clean air,
My rights to fly

And when the walls began to crumble
I huddled,
Puddled at the bottom to shield myself from light.
I denied ‘fright’ said ‘caution,’
Though longing for my portion,
The sharp winds, the banishing warmth,
The place of walking on the edge,
The freedom that is fear,
That is freedom.
I have looked to the sky
Where I fear and long to fly,
And I will, shedding the little deaths that cling
While I soar, living.