I have been dying to learn that
trick you do with your heart. The
one where it expands and its
walls become soft and accepting
of all the flesh and blood and
disasters that grow around
it.
I have come to accept the
feeling of not knowing where I am going. And I have trained
myself to love it. Because it is only when we are suspended
in mid-air with no landing in sight, that we force our wings
to unravel and alas begin our flight. And as we fly, we still
may not know where we are going to. But the miracle is in the
unfolding of the wings. You may not know where you're
going, but you know that so long as you spread your wings,
the winds will carry you.