Soar

My nay-sayers and my neighbors all told me, "You cannot live this dream. Fish may not fly." "You will burn; just punishment for trying to fly too close to the sun." But I answered, "I am the caged bird who sets herself free." And I said, "I am bound to ride West, to seek my fortune in the desert dark and muddy muck of mind that is the place all art begins." Limp sadness or a perfect anger, I rage away on the page and I am healed, I am saved, Born anew like a caterpillar, crawling into chrysalis darkness, who emerges to test new-gilded wings in the summer air. That bright moment will come. You will soar.