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Monday, 13 April 2009

The trouble with soaring so high and seeing everything ... is seeing nothing.


Soaring where
the currents take her,
seeing everything,
observing everyone,
breathing the air
of adventure
and excitement?
Is she a mother?
Circling to protect
her nest,
her children,
scavenge for food,
and would give her
life
to protect her young?
Or is she
a traveler,
a loner?
Ruling the
expanse of blue,
the endless skies
as her kingdom,
doing what she pleases,
but fated to live
alone, with no mate?
With no one
to share her life,
her empty happiness?

That,
I feel,
is worse
than being grounded.

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