My biggest fear is not being heard
fluttering around
building nests with twigs I found
from this ground
Myself
singing loudly
singing proudly
like the birds we take for granted
part of the furniture of this world
we barely notice anymore
the miracle, the magic, the music
of flying.
I lied: my biggest fear is flying
Soaring through the sky
shining like silk shimmering in the sun
and no one noticing
what I had just done.
A small miracle that took all my might
to take on wings and to step into flight
Facing the fear.
But maybe
like bird on sidewalk
silhouetting every cement laden city
I don’t need to be heard or seen
Maybe the singing and soaring is the single
most solemn
most sacred way of being.
You might not hear it.
You might not see it.
But I will still open my mouth
leap into this lover’s embrace
and live
like no one is watching anyway.
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