Wings of Wax

We will not wait for the
experts to
explain to us what it means
to be excellent.
We will not wait for our
parents and professors to
give us permission
to spread our wings.
We are the young;
like every good thing,
we leave,
we thrive;
we love,
we lose,
and with freedom weighing us down,
we drown in our own
miry individuality,
calling on
someone
to grasp our hand
and guide our way:
someone,
anyone,
but them.

Charis Medendorp (2011)

I wrote this while sending an email to myself (which I do a lot). I found it today when I wondered what this one unread email could be. Strange, how you lose things.

Eb

The seven seas stared back at me

from within their ivory frame,

and the ocean’s roar

whispered its chords

from deep within its chest.

As my fingertips stroked

the delicate blades

that can slice the heart

of any man,

I recognized the key

to my own heart;

without a thought,

I opened the lock,

swallowed whole by

the seven seas,

the rolling waves

of ivory keys.

Charis Medendorp (2011)