I used to think that the relentless ache between my shoulder blades
was from missing wings.
We are meant to be angels on earth, I believed.
And then, I forgot, so caught up in the details of life, consumed with ambition, and then facing the daily struggle of chronic illness.
Until I saw this image.
Oh, I know it is just a leaf,
dried and disintegrating, barely holding it together.
But is it not also wings? Look how it’s outline forms a heart;
how intricately its surface is woven, like lace.
My wings would look like this – delicately held together, damaged beyond flight, but not so frail that I cannot still don them, remember my essence, recommit
to a life of service.
Nature holds secrets –
reminders of our purpose –
calling us to serve.
(Willow Poetry offers a weekly challenge: What Do You See? The featured image is this week’s prompt. Photo credit: Hélène Vaillant)