I thought that perhaps he was an angel,
It seemed like he could read my thoughts...
I know now, that he was just a weary traveller,
An imposter among us,
Pretending that the curve of his back
was where he had once carried wings...
I see now that it is merely bent
from the weight of his conscience,
The weight of his burdens,
The weight of his own convictions...
If he had truly heard my thoughts
He never would have left me like this.
Cold and broken and alone...
My own back bends
with the weight of realization...
Yes. You can love someone with
your whole heart...
And yet they never hear a peep,
even when you're crying out their name
into the night, into the darkness...
And all that returns
Is the soft echo of your own whimpering...
But at least it has strengthened my spine,
And I am ready now
to reclaim my own wings...
I will always keep a soft place
in my heart, for only him...
I pray that he feels my gentle kiss
on his brow, some lonely night
when I am brave enough to take flight,
enter his dreams, and face the pain
he carried all these years in vain.
For now, I leave it in the hands of
fate. The Sun Dance continues...
As I prepare to fly.