Denise Morgan Poet Free verse

Wings to Fins: A Flight from Cruelty, A Dive into Peace

When I was a terrorized, tortured, petrified child,
I would look up-
into the vast, clear blue, empty space,
and wish I were a bird.

To spread my wings, rise beyond reach,
dip through clouds like whispers,
ride the blustery winds,
and after the rain-
chase the ribbons of color
that arc across the sky,
just out of curiosity.

By night, I would perch
on treetops unknown,
watching the silver moon grin
as stars winked their silent promises.

Now, as an adult,
I wish I were a fish.
Not to witness the wicked antics of madmen.
Not to hear the echoes of cruelty.

I would swim deep,
where the sea cradles its secrets,
among coral cathedrals,
through forests of drifting light.

I would not need gills,
I would not need breath—
I would hold it,
until men learn to be kind.

And at night, I would rest
on the ocean bed,
where even the waves whisper softly,
where silence is sacred,
where the world above
cannot follow.

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