Wings

Wings

For what seems like eternity she grows in secret,

Hidden from the world,

Watching, maturing.

From time to time the eyes of a stranger penetrate her disguised retreat,

And all they will see is an ugly, brown cocoon,

Hanging by a thread from a tree,

Paying no attention to the radiant being growing inside.

When she is finally strong enough to become part of the world,

She emerges from her cocoon

And she flies.

They gaze at her, with magical gazes.

They breathe in her beauty.

She sighs.

They do not know what beauty is, they have never known what true beauty is.

When she finally earns the freedom she longs for,

Freedom from her isolated world,

She laughs at the ignorance of onlookers,

Gaping in her presence.

Then she soars high above them.

She spreads her wings, preparing herself for the long flight ahead.

For she will never return, never return to those who would not

Appreciate her until she was beautiful, in their eyes.

She takes one last look

Then she leaves,

And is gone.