I’ve always wondered about birds, and how it feels to fly.

The nearest I got to fly was on the end of a rope, attached to a speed boat, with a sail above my head… Parascending in Tunisia; a great experience above the sea and sand… I’ll never forget that feeling.

If I was to be reincarnated, I have often wondered what I would come back as…

Maybe a cat, because they get loved and attended to and they dream for hours.

But then there’s the possibility of being a bird… now that’s the thing… flying and swooping and darting with the winds… how much pleasure they must feel.

But here I am, now… a human in chains… waiting to be released from a matrimonial sentence, stagnating in a pool of despair, burdened and battered, bruised and limp, dying from suffocation; the list gets deeper, with tidal waves lapping, ebbing, returning… bang!

But wait… I am a bird… a caged bird… waiting to fly.

Am I ready to fly, I wonder to myself. Am I perched with a noose or chain? Is the cage door oiled enough to open wide and let me out at the right time? And what is the right time? How do I know when my decrepit wings will be strong enough to carry me away? Should I start preening now in anticipation of that brighter day… my release date into self love and freedom?

I don’t know.

So many questions.

So many tangled thoughts.

So many chains.

I sit on my perch.

One eye open.

Waiting…

For freedom.