Freedom fell not as a star
the fame of instant glare
of lights, or fancied flights
She rose not on limbs
pampered or admired
for grace and glory
or bathed in applause
But at stage doors shut
On platforms bleak
With leaps of faith at
Eyrie edges, soul-searching
Pain and loss, her cross
Faltering, yet rooted as a tree
She felt armed with strength
To face another plummet too far
I’m here to catch you
A voice outside of her
Struck sharp, solar plexus
A clock striking midnight
But she stretched wings
As a bird, a chrysanthemum
In bloom, at breaking point
In highwire acts of faith
Dropping, swooping
No easy answers
Spurred her on to a time
Unknown, unfound
When she would fly
And find herself happily
No longer waiting in the wings
© 2012 S. Michaels
Breakaway – Spreading Wings
l i g h t room 
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