Ceilings

I used to soar

And the air would part itself for me.

I used to soar,

And now I cannot.

I was so loud!

It was the canyons and canopies that would echo me

I was so loud!

And now I am not.

Sometime ago, I was brave and bold.

My colours were bright and pigmented

Gorgeous, I was.

And I am.

But lesser, now, as in the heat my eyes are sealed tight

Because the moment before I crashed, I was soaring

And then the waves of movement materialised

And held my wings as I cried.

I am waiting for the quiet giants to hold me and weep too.

Their tears sound like hummingbird wings,

And they are comforting me.

But I do not want to keep falling.

I am too pigmented for an artwork museum,

Where feathers gather dust

And those who get lost there are just as dull and lonely.

Art might be bright and colourful to them,

But it is only a reminder of the skies I have known.

I want to fly again. I want to soar again. I wish that the world would part again, in my honour only, but for the sweet celebration of the songs I've brought to the galaxies I promised to dip and dive through.

~

I will explain this story soon. It's too long to put in the caption of a photograph, but it is also dependent on the Fates, my stubbornness, and the incredible strength of a little bird I named Percy (Perseverance).