Bluer Horizons

I’ve waited with the patience of saints,

freed from those imposed constraints.

Bound by shackles no more,

never looking back, once I’m out that door.

I’m flying solo, the unknown awaits,

like a bird, with the seasons migrates.

Take to the skies with wings spread,

off and gone, toward horizons bluer,

where memories and reminders are fewer.

From this skin I shed,

there’s a whole world waiting ahead.

Without further adieu, I must embark,

soaring free as a lark,

in a direction I no longer dread.

From the ashes of disaster,

I became my own master.

Transformed, a phoenix; I bore and created,

I ascend, elated from my bondage, liberated.



© 2015  Kathleen Stefani and Combing The Catacombs
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