Let the poem lead you

He tells me to step into the light
take flight

his wings are shining bright
so I follow him.

He taught me to fly
He’s a wild and brilliant
kind of guy

Strong in himself
and in his self-worth.

Ego drops and dies
like a crab’s body

as its soul enters the skies.

.

A poem leads me
where I don’t expect.

I don’t plan it
it just arrives

and that is the best way
to survive.

.

.

.

Image: artist unknown, found on Pinterest via quick post-write art search for “birth soul of the eagle” — it seems a bit incongruous to the poem (crab vs lamb/lion) but it’s the only one that gave me the tingles so I go with it… Also: I tried to “fix” this poem, by removing the “crab,” even before finding the image, but it seemed to cry out for justice. It seems it likes its misfit firstish draft. So I let it be at that.

p.s. Hi, has been a while… thanks for reading. ❤ I will try to catch up soon… :)) xoxo