Consent to Creep

  "One can never consent to creep

when one feels an impulse

to soar."

Helen Keller

The impulse to soar is stifled when someone stands on your feet while telling you to fly.  It is impossible to flap wings when a net of negative words entrap you.  With the consent to creep, tears leave a trail to the cage only to be dried by the sun.

Head hangs down towards the ground tired of watching feet shuffle in the dust that never seems to settle.  Ears gently close to create a sense of silence where desperation can hide.  Hands randomly extend in hopes of grasping magic that will catapult you into the sky.

A gentle breeze lazily slides across the face willing eyes to look up and behold the spaciousness of the sky.  Like the attraction of a moth drawn to the light, a compulsion burns to ascend to the majesty of the celestial realm.  Freedom to rise above all that encumbers, to gently glide higher and float suspended never reaches heavenly spheres as desire repeatedly falls from the sky.