If I had wings,
I know I’d fly.
I wouldn’t be anchored
No sir. Not I.
In the blink of an eye
gone would I be,
over mountains so high,
way beyond the trees.
If I had wings,
you couldn’t stop me
I’d fly so high
I’d at last be free.
But I don’t have wings
and I cannot fly.
My anchor chafes as
once again I try.
Undaunted, though
and tethered still
with all my heart, and
endless will, my soul
does soar
my heart does sing,
I know I’d
fly if I had wings.
Poetry
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