“To Fly” by Pheonyx Roldan Smith 

you say you want to live
but you don’t know how. 
you say you want to die
but you’re afraid of what’s on the other side.

you say you want to love 
but you’re afraid to even try.
you say your heart couldn’t take it,
another one of those goodbye’s
where he or she walks away
while you stand there staring at the why.

you say you want to change old habits,
spread some wing feathers,
perhaps take a second or third or even fourth attempt at flight.
then you say but what’s the point
when’s there’s no one to fly by your side.

i say to you give it up, 
this need of yours to hide
with your head in the clouds 
but your mind like an injured child
crouched in a corner too afraid to cry.

i say to you give it up,
those misstepped thoughts of yours about time
and how you falsely judge that there’s not enough of it
for you to even get by,
to fall in love, to mend a fence,
to understand what’s truly inside.

but you say you want to be loved
for who you really are this time!

and i say to you,
but how can that be
when even your own self you can’t find?
because it’s buried under all that muck of an unchanging mind
strapped to a post of old habits and behaviors which you yourself deem unkind.
or it’s sitting too high on its perch
out of reach of the one who wanders the woods
seeking you with faith that it’s just a matter of time.

and i say too you it’s true,
this element of Time,
it’s as infinite as the Source
and yet as finite as water and wine.
and yet the love that you seek
lies no where within or without it,
for that is the love of the mind.
how do i know? because i can see you lying here again 
broken, battered, seeking to be readjusted 
for another round of the benign.

no, i say to you, the love that you seek
can not be found within the folds of bosoms so fine,
nor in the arms strong in protection 
with hands held firm at the base of the spine.
it is not in the gentle love-making,
the passionate kisses which rise
from roots churning in energy as primordial as the rivers of time.
for these are temporary loves 
lasting moments or weeks 
and at the most a lifetime,
which still remains temporary at best 
whether one lives to a hundred and nine.

no, dear one, these loves are sublime, 
but they can compare to nothing 
of the potential of the live you hold inside.
even a thousand lovers of a thousand lifetimes
could hardly equate to the ecstasy
of that live of the self which extends far beyond these limited but beautiful realms of earthly space and time.

you see, dear one, 
you didn’t come here to do anything
but learn how to love yourself ultimately this time,
beyond excuses, expectations or a crumbling of heart and mind.
you came here to be tested and treated well within these earthly confines
in ways which would push you through the prison story of your mind.
you know the one…
the one that tells you can’t do it, you’re not worthy, 
you haven’t got the strength for it this time. 
the one that lies to you in the mirror
each time you stare into your own eyes.

yes dear, i say to you
i understand all the self-lies.
i once heard and believed them, too
before i could open my eye
and see that the truth of all life and love and that one i’d been seeking outside
was nowhere to be found as long as i was willing to hide behind my story of brokeness, of sadness and strife.

so, i say to you, let go dear liver of life!
let go of the poisons you’ve given yourself of late each morning and night.
let go of believing that there’s even something to find. 
let go of even thinking that your love is outside somewhere hidden 
in a lover be that in a man or a woman or even a child. 
let go and let in the greatest love of all time,
the love of yourself once you no longer require it from outside,
that love that will appear in everything to which you are willing to give sight.
it is the same love that flows through every one who finally decides 
to set themselves free, fully trust, let go and learn how to fly.

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