Between the shoulder blades,
where our wings were torn, we
recall flying through the blue—
no fear of wind or burning sun—
so when the universe takes
an earthbound yank upon our
backs, to reattach us onto mortal
soil—an archaic ache begins:
Release us now; we want to soar!
We are such luminous things,
yet we need other souls
to hold, and watch ongoing
dramas at the theatre of life.
Be careful—don’t confuse mental
filters—penitents spend far too long
kneeling, eyes fixed on the floor.
Develop instead a roofer’s steady
nerves, aware of the possible Fall.
Up high, in elegant pantomime,
articulate the voices of the heart.
Alison Jennings is a Seattle-based poet who worked as a journalist, accountant, and teacher before returning to her first love, poetry. She’s had a mini-chapbook and over 120 other poems published in numerous journals—including Amethyst Review, Burningword, Mslexia, Pensive, Poetic Sun, Red Door, Sonic Boom, The Raw Art Review, and The Society of Classical Poets. She has also won 3rd Place/Honorable Mention or been a semi-finalist in several contests. Please visit her website.