A BIRD ON THE EDGE OF SPACE.
For if dreams die,
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams.
For if dreams go,
Life is a barren field
Covered with snow. -Langston Hughes The above is a draft written in July of 2013. I think I will finish it today. "SHE TOOK THE LEAP AND BUILT HERWINGS ON THE WAY DOWN." The sign was posted on a housejust a mile down from my home,in between the Phinney Ridge and Fremont neighborhoods, nailed upon the wall between two doors of a duplex. The duplex still stands, the sign long gone, as I suspect the tenant who posted it. The neighborhoods have changed a bit, the result of progress and prosperity of industry, and yet, strangely, now slightly bled of beautyand creativity. The folks who live there noware less likelyto pin up a hand paintedpiece of wood with the stencil of poesy. Dreams still stand, though. The arrogance of ambitions, the drive to go up, up, upis still nestled in the hearts amongst us. In me. Is it also in you?
Currently, I'm in a tumble of urgesprompted by a lifelong dream. SeeminglyI am quite goodat failure. Um, failures.Also, seemingly, I've becomeconvulsively, amazingly persistent in the driveto keep dreaming.
Keep going. It's what makes this life switch the mundanerepetitive acts of eating, shitting and sleepingto the divine push to make rainbows out of piss storms. Girl Icarus, you were never so good as the false belief that you could out shine your wings
in the orbits of the sun. - RQ Bella
