Sumita Dutta writes

Her Flight

Her dreams soared high,
Like a kite in full flight,
Colourful and bright,
Tail fluttering in delight.

Gusts tumbled her,
Carried her hither,
Pulled her thither,
Swept on in gay abandon.
 
Winged by wind billowing;
Now soaring, now diving,
Joyously high fiving,
Sky and the capricious wind.
 
Doubts made her dance,
Swoop in an exhilarating twirl,
A horizontal pirouette
Propelling into the stratosphere.
 
She tugged impatiently,
At the tether that diligently
Held her Earth-bound;
This was the limit, she found.
 
She pulled and heaved
Against that umbilical cord;
Ambitions urged her to fly high,
Grab those dreams fleeting by.

She stilled for a while,
Looking back at her fetters;
Sky waiting breathless,
For her decision monumental.
 
Dreams transformed, ambition driven,
She caught the slip stream,
Flung herself onward,
To discover what fate had in store.
 
Tethers strained, tattered, lost;
Her fetters that were,
Watched her swiftly fly,
A speck in the great blue sky.
 
Sadly they foretold of her foul end,
Crushed on forked branches, or barbed fence,
Colours fading under merciless sun;
Bleeding away in a simple rain.
 
As do all stories, hers too
Met its destined conclusion,
But after an intoxicating flight
Quenched her thirsting resolution.
 
On her last breath,
Life images flashing,
Recalled whence life
Could’ve been long and safe.
 
Happily, smiling she died,
Loved ones by her side;
The Flight, for regrets, too well valued;
Unfettered to new realms now she flew.

 Soaring -- Cherilynn Wood