I float further
through the sky,
stumbling on blades
that remind me:
I am forever.

The wind calls home
every place I go.
Blue from the sky
masks the emotion–
I dropped the world.

On my own, I get
caught up in a whirlwind,
but only for a moment,
until I am forced north
for a retreat.

I have nowhere to go,
but I keep moving.
I only long for a place
to be familiar for me,
to rest permanently.

The wind finds a home
for me, finally–
near an old tree.
Its trunk has carvings
and holes and homes.

At last, I can break.
I settle in.
Soon you’ll wish
you were more dead
than me–said the tree.

I scoffed and said
you don’t know
what I’ve been through–
flying, not having
a place of my own.

The tree laughed
and sighed at once.
You know not
what you say
little one.

You are here to stay,
you will never move.
You will come to see
the thing you long for most
is the time when you were free.

Hours passed, days disappeared,
as did months and years.
The old tree decayed
and collapsed and
was carted off.

I stand taller than he
ever did.
Children run around me
and laugh and play.
I am forever.

Every day I think
about the words
imparted upon me
and I dream
of flying away.

One hundred thousand lives
pass through my eyes.
Hopes and aspirations
have died at my knees.
I am everything.

When you stand to see
everything there is
to see,
you only want to be

So when I felt an aching pain
on that cool November day,
it only made me
feel warm

I knew that sharp
familiar sound
of the axe
putting me to sleep

Perhaps I will be a decoration
or made of some use.
But as I feel the life
drain from me,
my spirit prepares to fly free.

As the blade slowly
takes away me,
I remember everything.
I am the world.
I am free.

And as the last slash
cuts through me,
everything I’ve known is gone
and I’m flying.
I am gone.

I begin the journey anew.
I fly without direction
without home.
I fly alone.
I am forever.


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