she stretched them wide,
feathers of words and dreams
cobbled together like patchwork.
she felt them rise
and prayed that they would stay attached
stuck to her with determination and spit.
she’d never really felt a kinship with Icarus
who flew so far, so high, so freely.
she still doubted that she
could truly even take to the sky.
she had always been content,
had never longed
to lounge among the clouds
but then – one day – there was a key.
and she found herself wishing she
could walk on water
but her footstep broke the surface
and sank into the reeds
and so if she was to cross that river
she would need a pair of wings.
so she opened up her suitcase heart
and dusted off the hopes and prayers
that she had tucked away, shut away, locked away
(for you see, her hopes brushed up
too closely against her fears)
but now it seemed
they were calling to be seen.
so she stitched her feathers together
with clumsy fingers and knotted string
she looked at the sky
she took a deep breath
and asked Icarus to lend his brave
and then, with shaky knees and trembling heart
– she flew.