I Really Don't Know How to Fly
I really don’t know how to fly,
how to spread my wings wide,
and let currents of air and time
scoop my armpits
to lift my small body,
my small life,
to the vast, open sky
I tried for countless hours,
for many years,
to fling my body
from the rust-colored faux-leather hassock
dragged from the living room
to one end of the hallway
that ran between the bedrooms,
mirrored at both ends
to see myself ad infinitum
into the future, into the past
in the home in which I was raised
and lifted
but didn’t learn how to fly
jump, dive, suspend, fall
jump, dive, suspend, fall
jump, dive, suspend, fall
rinse, repeat
again, again, ad infinitum
along the length of the narrow hallway,
as far as possible,
without crashing into the floor or the walls
But crashing was,
and remains essential
for lift-off,
for the release
from gravity’s hold,
for flight,
propelled by intention, strength,
and courage
The lack of the latter my tether
This applies to turning upside down too,
to bear my body’s weight on my arms,
to dangle and swing my legs
in the air overhead,
to risk collapse
a bump on the top of my head,
an overshoot, an undershoot,
scraped knees, banged elbows,
flat out embarrassment,
those were simple wounds,
easy to heal
To live my world,
to see my life
from multiple perspectives,
inverted, topsy-turvy,
from a bird’s eye view,
or down the long tunnel
of the sweep and span of a lifetime
I needed to risk a dis-arming,
a falling into my arms,
or perhaps another’s
To soar is to sacrifice
security, stability, the ground
beneath my feet,
the semblance of strength,
the walls of support,
the affirming nods of those
who love the walls, the floors
the apparent boundaries
that surround me so safely
Screw safety.
Once, actually again and again,
over so many years,
a mere mortal,
no, a fierce angel,
with golden, floppy, asymmetric hair,
shining cerulean eyes,
skinny, strong legs,
and flexible, pointable feet,
a radiance open to every aspect
of every being and all of life,
with wings for arms,
who knew how to fly,
who, in fact, flies on a daily basis,
who has flown,
is flying at this very moment,
whose lightness of being,
vastness of heart,
freedom of thought,
curiosity of mind,
defies gravity,
flips safety
on its head,
this angel
welcomed me to fly,
Year after year,
my capacity for trying,
my potential for flying,
if not with my body,
at least with my life
affirmed and witnessed.
This punk angel believed
I could and would
fly,
even if I never did or will
I didn't need to believe I can’t
spread my wings
from tip to tip, with
a wideness originating
behind the center of my sternum,
in the inner sanctum of my heart,
extending beyond the edges of my universe,
responding, adapting, creating
receiving, processing, transforming, transmitting
the lift and sway of the currents of my life
swooping, inverting, soaring
to see and be everything I already am.
-jaysi, dec 2020,
in grateful grief, appreciation, and memory of Kathleen Hermesdorf
#KKForever #CarryTheTorch #PunkAngel
