Gull feathers—
I wind them in my laces
to remind me
how much I need to fly!
break free from weights
that pull me down,
and spread my wings,
muscular,
feel the wind against my face
as I soar with gusts,
down drafts,
pull up again,
powered by my dreams.
Don’t clip my wings,
lace me in worn out ideas,
tie me down in habits,
routines numbered in
mindless intervals.
My being flexes from within,
bones and tendons arch
when heart beats too much joy
to be contained in sitting,
and feeling bursts like fire into my hands,
my feet,
till they leap out,
flying,
free at last.