Reality Gets In The Way

One of the joys of writing is the ability to escape to other places and pretend to be whomever you want to be or create characters who do many of the things you might be afraid to do yourself. Writing is also a way to work through personal difficulties.

One of my ancestors, Wallace Bruce - or WB as I call him, was a world-renowned Robert Burns scholar and poet. In fact Wallace Bruce held the same Poet Laureate post in Scotland in the late 1800's that Robert Burns had held a century before and it is through WB that I am a descendent of Robert the Bruce according to genealogical records. While I'm not putting my self anywhere near WB's league in my writings I find myself drawn more and more to poetry to work through some difficult times.

Here's my offering of a poem-in-progress (the name I use is another story):

Learning to Fly by Vashtie

I learned to walk
I wanted to learn to fly
I learned to smile and talk
And I learned how to cry

Every step I take a treasure
In this journey called life
Bringing both pain and pleasure
With intense joy and strife

At times the pain is too great
At times the joy euphoric
I hang onto the ride each takes
The highs, the lows are chaotic

I dared to love but life stalled
While I tried learning to fly
My wings breaking in the fall –
I fell hard looking up at the sky

But I will take these broken wings
And learn to fly again and again
Because to not try, to not fly nor sing
Is like slowly dying before the end

As I put one foot in front of the other
I console myself that I can even feel
But these feelings threaten to smother
Both what is farce and what is real

Every step is part of life's journey
Every joy and pain part of a story
Every story is a journey
Every journey has a story