The Blissful Storyteller

Broken Wings Are Still Alive

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Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
– Maya Angelou
“Move..move..this is the moment, fly..”
I was hearing a sound within, something like, a whisper,
A voice, from the far.. someone was calling me inside.
I wanted to stretch my wings, but I felt a dying pain,
They were broken, but still, alive.
I wanted to scream, the pain was high.
A darkness covered me, I looked at the sky.
I heard that voice again, it whispered again,
“Move..You have the wings my dear, 
For once at least, try..”
I closed my eyes, breathed a deep, 
and replied, “Yes”.
With my feet upon the sky, I started, to fly..
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise

 

 

 

[I am taking my blog to the next level with Blogchatter’s #MyFriendAlexa 2019]

Read my all posts of this month long event here.]

 

Read my featured poem on divine love I am You & You are me.

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25 responses to “Broken Wings Are Still Alive”

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