Wings Of Life

Found this poem in my archives the other day and decided to dust it off. Certainly I'm the product of all my yesterdays and the early years, one through twenty eight, were the "fill dirt" necessary in preparation for the foundation of building my new way of life. It clearly was the "what it was like" however I found myself writing a poem that represents the "what happened and what I'm like now."

By late twenties,
my life in tatters,
ego wings shorn bare
by the constant hacking of
addiction's cold blade...
a slithering caterpillar
I became,
heaving and scuffling across
life's stony ground....then..

in early thirties,
crawled into bondage,
a humbled hostage,
mired in a casing
crafted from the soiled fabric
of my past.

Time did pass and
in late thirties
released from murky darkness
tasting freedom's light,
by God's good grace
was gifted wings
set free
at long last took flight.

In my forties and fifties
letting complacency slip in
the light flickered and dimmed.
No longer did I see clearly.
Caterpillar, cocoon and butterfly
all but disappeared..but lo and behold
in their stead across my sight
two intimidating birds
took flight.

A hawk, dauntless and bold
circled high in the sunlit sky
keenest of eye, deadliest beak,
flight swift and sure.
Then in the blink of an eye
I saw yet another bird.
An owl, crafty old hunter,
head horned, eyes fierce,
moonlight drenched, so wise,
so focused and cunning.
So now twice feathered
flexing sharp talons and
hunting wings
my mind darted this and that
stalking my fortune.

Then in my sixties and beyond
when I pause I hear
the voice within my soul declare.
Yes, at times you've been
caterpillar, cocoon, butterfly,
hawk, owl and ..more.
But now..now
aglow in life's twilight
on wings tempered
by all these
I see a peaceful old bird
soaring in the wind.
james frederick m

JF