When the Sky Splits

And it arrives in flashes 

when we realize 

what we must do

in exchange 

for all these weights we pull 

with fish hooks sunk under our skin

commanding we remain.

And if I reach up

to grab inspiration

in its quick moment

of revelation

I ride the slip stream 

to a place where these fears

of drudgery, 

of what presses 

down on my crumbling shoulders,

have no meaning,

no legs to run my life.

And so I am trying

to open myself up to the sky

to hear when it is my turn

to fly away.