It Is Time

Hurry, you must fly from
the emptiness of your life.
It is time for you
to be born
to live
no more lurking
on the edges
running from the sun.

No longer can you linger
like a ghost
not invited to the party
sidling along the edges
scooting back into
the shadow of a life
not yet lived.

Hurry, I say, fly.
Don’t ask me how—just do it
before it’s too late
before your wings
return to chains of fear.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to It Is Time

  1. I would like to post this on my website with a link back to yours. It fed into where my soul is right now. Let me know.


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