Motivated

It’s the flight of pregnant birds that I am reminded of
Bloated and cramping
Legs tucked close in, wings beating away with paternal efficacy 
Never towards a nest
Always in flight
As if the very notion of rest a circling falcon
A tireless hunter, promising a swift demise, bodies left to decay…

This, this is a pregnant flock of desires and ideas
Notions and purpose
Encumbered and floating, rolling clouds heavy with rain 
And this flock rolls on
Until with a spasm of wings and anticipated rhythm 
A gush of rains and new life is announced
And from each bird, pregnant from birth
Comes a new flock, each end every belly swollen with life
And new ideas surge forth
And newly feathered wings beat with renewed zeal
And a multitude of pregnant flocks take to the skies,
	
And it’s these birds I’m reminded off
When I pick up the pen to write
Because in each and every bird I observe
I see that pregnant mother of possibility
Beating her wings, soaring above the ground
To give birth in the skies,
Where my ideas soar, soar and give birth
And I am reminded of them
Every time I come to write
And fear I will write nothing at all.

Copyright © Samir Georges | Year Posted 2011

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