I want to be blessed 

where your bare feet walk, 

when you

do not think 

I am looking.

I do not eat the sun, 

but it streams 

into me, 

I did not think 

you were looking.

I never ate the ocean

but the waves

lapped against my feet

and my bottom 

sank into the sand. 

I never ran with the wolves, 

but I howled with them 

at the lunar eclipses

and wished I knew

what freedom was. 

I do not eat the wind 

but it pours into my mouth

each breath I take 

while swimming,

my wings fill up.

I contract into myself,

with no strength to rise

to reach for the light

for now I can see I am merely

scrambling in the dark.