How to Swim with Wings (a poem)

 

My dolphin sister says,

That to master the water

  I must be part of the water 

  But I’m not sure I’m built for this

 I, the Strange changeling child 

 of my  dolphin mother 

  I have wings for fins

  And legs for a tail.

  A beak-like snout 

  Only a mother could love

  I try to swim with my sisters

  And I am left behind

  The runt of the litter and 

  number one prey for sharks 

I’ve always known

That one day, a shark will appear 

And I will be too slow, too heavy

To escape it’s grasping jaws

But this knowledge doesn’t erase 

The terror that arrives  

With a dangerous smile and

A taste for blood

I take flight in the water,

I have never swam faster in my life.

And I probably never will again.

I swim upwards like going up for air.

As giant white teeth

 begin to close around me. 

We both break the surface of the water.

He jumps, and I jump higher

And I just keep swimming

My heart pounding fast as my wings

I look down,

 and I see the ocean’s dark depths

Beneath me.

I look up to see a wide expanse of sky

Unexplored, and undiscovered.

My wings are unencumbered,

By the heaviness of water.

My soul is unencumbered

By the heaviness of failure.

And I flap my wings,

And keep swimming in air.

I just keep swimming.

Read another poem by Ravanjie here.

Check out some of her other works here.