The Rudiments of Wings

An empty auditorium, echoing with the voices of those long past Life’s stage, we the characters, parsing the script in a caricature of truth Phantoms of a thousand different productions, acts, scenes leave the frissons of their presence We strive, strain, stretch for the higher, brighter, better, betraying verity for vanity Etchings in dust, the drive to impact the path we’ve trodden Power like water within the grasp of a clenched fist Clasping, gripping, seizing, you find nothing but droplets left in your open palm Ignominy strikes the weakest souls, stretched threads of consciousness reaching vainly We long to fly, seek to ascend to the forbidden, transforming into what we were never made to be Transcendent, elusive, suffusing our epic odyssey of alienation Logic is a casualty of success, empathy a victim of independence Careening along a runway, the test flight, hoping for the rudiments of wings 2/21/22 "The Rudiments of Wings" for "This or That, Vol 10" sponsored by Edward Ibeh