| What is Trust? A light winged bird that vanishes once captured?
Or a spider's thin thread that snaps at the slightest pull,
strong only when woven together?
Still it is only as safe as the branch where it is anchored.
As sweat rolls in tears down your cheeks
your stomach knotting,
I see a butterfly with damaged wings
trembling at the shadow of a hand that would lift you up
never crush or cage.
Too tired to escape certain damage
your heart races
wondering if you have the strength to weather the next blow.
So I tie my hands behind my back.
If words could heal I'd weave a gossamer cloak
to protect you from the wind's chill.
Then, remind you how strong and beautiful you are
chasing dreams a hair's breath from disaster.
I'd whisper songs into your wings
to hold together the patterns you recreate from scratch,
and send warm air to lift you in new flight.
Someday your new wings may brush my wrists
celebrating a new born freedom.
Then I will hold up my hands
providing a momentary rest
before you sail off in your next dazzling adventure.
Copyright © 1999 by wendi loomis. |