17 year old me

I was torn into pieces by life,
and by trying far too hard to live it.
Craziness took it's weighing toll on me,
as did my living not truly free.
And as I broke and cried, 

I asked to be really, truly free, 
not here trapped in 

these weird, invisible tethers.

Feeling lied to
by those who taught me 
to never lie my whole life,
and all I felt I could do
was collapse and cry.
But still, I have to live life
still, have to got to work,
and so, 

bundling it all 
deep inside of me
where they can't see it
or find it or feel it...
I leave, to keep
those commitments.

A day flies by fast,
fast as rainstorms come,
in this summer heat
and when it came time
for me to leave
that place where I work,
the rain poured.
Biking with a soul
so heavy, weighed down
by all those things
I'd stuffed inside.
I stopped for a moment
at the top of the hill,
and saw to the west,
clouds, dark and grey.

Majestic and strange,
beautiful yet indescribable.
And as I stared in wonder,
I saw a beautiful eagret,
the purest white 
with flowing feathers,
he flew against 
those dark clouds, 
that grumbling storm.
...So beautiful I nearly cried...
Then behind him
the lightning branched
like roots from the sky,
reaching, climbing down 
to this rich ground.

I reached for my camera,
but then I felt 
the gentle whisper,
it seemed to say to me,
"It's for you, enjoy it,
please, don't lose it
by trying to capture it."
I watched 'till the eagret 
disappeared on the horizon.
I then continued home
the raindrops falling sweetly, 
I tried to enjoy it all.

I saw a mourning dove
sheltering in a tree
I called to it
and it answered me.
A weeping willow
bright green against these 
dark, pearled clouds.
(A weeping willow,
forever crying, why?
You'll always make me
so strangely sad,
you are so beautiful,
my favorite tree I think,
one of them at least.
Why can't you
be comforted,
you weeping tree?)

The roots from the sky 
kept reaching down
to kiss the ground,
to touch the earth,
to cleanse the air.
And it was then that
I knew I could fly.
Maybe I can't literally,
but the truth is I can.
So I did, and the rain came.
It poured and ran
in little mini rivers.
It washed out all those
frustrations and worries,
fears and resentments.

I let it go with the rain,
and though I may not
truly be free, yet then
I flew, and I felt
a whispering promise
that someday,
I'll be really, truly free.
Out of these invisible tethers,
I won't care about
these things that keep me here,

stuck, unable to truly be free, 

unable to fly whenever I need.

I know that I'll someday be free,
and I looked to sky,
and replied "thank you".