she speaks to the wings of freedom . . .

the air moves in and out of her lungs. she waits. she has been waiting. she has been searching. with each breath she feels the urgency of time ticking away, trickling by, and running out. she feels a call to rush onward, a call to fulfill her role, her purpose, her niche, in an evolutionary design she feels so separated and removed from.

she is two now. she is the purposeful body that is driven toward a flurry of action and an unrelenting push toward the work of her biology and the carbonaceous mater of an organic creature. she is sure that her body is more than that. she feels sure that her body is a vehicle - a vehicle of mater in which her spirit lives, ever traveling in search of wholeness, completeness, and a purpose greater than a niche in a design not made for individuality or divinity. she feels that her body is designed for work, but her spirit is bigger and it longs for so much more than an existence. in her duality she is conflicted.

she calls to the spirits she sees in the sky, the spirits soaring above her, their wings strong and full of freedom. she pleads with them, knowing that they are enlightened, and their enlightenment carries them upward, onward, and toward their own bigness.

"tell her what you know" she says to them. "tell her where you have been. tell her where you are going. tell her of your journey. share with her so she might know the logistics of her own path. share with her so she might surmount the insurmountable. share with her! her time is short, and she wants so much to answer this voice inside of herself, this voice that tells her there is more. is there more? these secrets, and all of these unanswered questions are unfair!"

she waits. she anticipates. her body and her spirit are awake in ways she had never before imagined. her awake-ness brings questions, and she begs the birds for answers. she begs the birds for the freedom, and the knowledge that rests on their wings. she waits.

still there is silence. a silence she has known for so long. the earth keeps turning, the sky keeps breathing, the trees keep reaching, and the birds keep soaring. she has no answers. she is the same as the day before and the day before that. the seconds trickle by turning into minutes and hours. she is the same.

she watches their wings as they soar upward. like herself they are bodies and spirits, and they too are searching. they are not enlightened, but like herself, seeking enlightenment. she must press on, she cannot sit in this stillness any longer.

defeated, she abandons her perch. her own elegant wings catch the air as she takes flight and heads onward. her's is a calling that cannot be ignored.

...she speaks to the wings of freedom.