Bird of The Summer

“Gone is the pale hand of winter, here is the first flush of may, and soon I will discover whether birds of the summer fly in circles or just fly away.” – A Fine Frenzy

Birds of the SummerThis endeavor. Of great height. Once I longed to be taller, with my toes rooted in the soil and my fingertips brushing against galaxies. But these growth spurts stretch my ligaments with an aching strain. A strengthening of focus, yet an absence of self-indulgence. This is the cost of the maximum potential. To expunge the schlock of excess luxury. To fly is to abandon, what to abandon you may not know. But to sit is to waste away, I will face this great unknown.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s