Week 2 A4

When I was about 10, I was playing outside with my little sister when I decided to climmb on top of an upright railroad tie. I lived in a small town called Moriaty, a valley basically that allows you to see forever. For a second I felt like my crazy world paused as all I could feel was the wind picking me up and taking me to my dreams. I stood there, with an increasing desire to fly, and then my deepest desire to be free, formed itself into words, making this poem.

I want to fly like an eagle,
To soar like a hawk.
To dive like a falcon
To strive like a flawk.
I want to dance in the air
Over lands and seas,
With a bird that will accommodate me.
I want to take to wing, to break the string...
I want to fly.

I resonate with having fit my mold, and holding on to labels for myself and others in order to have an identity. But what does it matter in the grand scheme of things? Why can’t I be myself without limitations, and admire others who broke free from their “predetermined roles”?

Your sculpture of someone setting a bird free is how I felt years ago on that railroad tie. Empty with an engulfing hole inside me, while trying to reach for personal and emotional freedom; yet having to let go of that chance instead of attempting to let go of my prison. Now that I am “free” of the past, I realize I am a slave to it ever more. Habits drilled into me, created by “roles destined by god'' was what I was told. Really they were just man made shapes for me to stay in, never influenced by something greater.

I am tired but always trying to end these limitations that have been set for me. I want to be free; always learning, always attempting, giving myself time, being me, soaring with my imagination, breaking my roles, loving who I want, and not allowing others to take over who I am...
… I want to fly.