The Wings

I was the little girl who used to fall and skin her knees

And then grew up and always seemed to skin her heart

“Don’t cry, doll.” My grandma’s words that I still hold to

As I’m drying my own tears

Time plays such soothing music while we dance to pass the years

The fleeting words like windblown sand across the page

We swim through echoes making peace with other loves

And broken dreams with shards of truth, while holding onto hopes

That hide like frightened children in the dark

You opened up the door that leads into your memories

Without a map you welcomed me inside

To wander through the narrow halls together

Some passions shared, some yet to be discovered

We looked behind the brick and mortar

Of these walls we’d built to shore up all the past

Illusions never vary - they are the things created

By a gentle hand that longs to hold the dream

I’ll let you in if you can promise you won’t see me

That you won’t notice all the dust

Or ask about the things that lurk in corners

Or that hide behind the drapes

Oh wait, I may still use that

What is that thing – the one beneath the sheet?

I’d forgotten all about it

But maybe it was really for the best

I can’t recall what I was thinking

When I offered you my wings

The rusty hinges atrophied and sore from lack of use

Or falling from the sky too many times

Perhaps I thought I’d never miss them

I half believe you may have thought the same

But nonetheless you took them

And up you flew while from the ground I watched

So glad for you but puzzled and bemused

Because somehow I’d always thought you’d take me with you