 |
So...I love seagulls...and I know it doesn't fit here, but who cares |
What I see now with the clarity of the crisp spring morn is that the jesses were always illusory. They existed only in my mind and reflection only ever lent them weight and substance, tethering me to the perch. The quest now is to fly onward into How, leaving Why to the past (though still intrinsic, it need not define me). Love soars like a Peregrine on a swift spring breeze.
This is beautiful, plus I confess to learning a new word here. (Or quite possibly I knew it but forgot what it meant.)
ReplyDeleteJess/jesses.
Beautiful.
Animals are true to the purpose of the moment; I wish I could be like that. We humans have too much wound around our axle to act effectively, like a falcon. Good poetry.
ReplyDelete