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)