July 16, 2013

Swing Set by Aeia Abas

I sat on an old swing set,
Letting the rain soak my hair,
And cling to my face like
Makeshift tears I'm too proud to shed,
Trailing down my face to my lips
Like a kiss from the sympathetic sky.

I flexed my foot to the ground,
Digging the soil with the points of my shoes,
As I tethered between the cold and muddy earth
And the nurturing sky.
I wondered
What would it feel like to sleep on a cloud?

So I kicked off from the ground and flew.
And realized I've always belonged in the air.
I felt the breeze embrace my body,
Welcoming me like I was a child of the winds,
As if the heavens never meant for me
To be anything but a bird.

I was finally home.

Aeia Abas, wherever she may be, commits to a life of spontaneity with her pen and forever unfilled cup.  She writes for her own well-being, though happy to inspire.  She can be contacted at aeiaabas@gmail.com.

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