By Angel Marie Russell

It feels like
Being bound by tar
Doesn’t it?

Lifting oneself up,
It can feel like tar
Has trapped the spirit
To the ground
And any movement
Towards the heavens
Is mired by a
A sticky prison,

That’s how I feel
By a quagmire
And sinking
With a firm hold
On every action
I take
To rise.

But my heart,
It sings.
It tells me of other things
It tells me,
Don’t give up
Don’t give in
To this sinking.
You were not meant to sink
But to fly.

I close my eyes and picture honey,
Not tar,
And if I have to
I’ll eat the whole of it
In one gulp,
Or call all the world’s bees
To come lift me up,
To break me free
From this doubt,
This worry,
This pit.
That says
I was not meant for more
Than this,
Constant struggle.

Oh, that I could
Remember my wings.
The feeling of wind,
Wisps of cloud,
And the land below.

Yet, here I am on this Earth
Neither above nor below
Neither heaven nor hell
Neither spirit nor purely matter.
With a singing heart
That dreams.

-Angel Marie Russell

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