Wings Folded In Silence

Wings Folded In Silence

I watch the birds tear through the morning,
Painting the sky with fearless wings,
And I, carry the wing beneath my skin,
Yet, I have made a home upon the ground.

Perhaps, the sky was never closed to me,
Perhaps, I was only afraid to fall,
Afraid of flying through the sky,
Despite that, I have Wings too.

I wonder, why afraid of the winds,
I wonder what beneath me,
I wonder, what sleeps inside me
A song or gift hiding behind these lips.

A story trapped within my fingertips?
What could it be and for what purpose?
Many times I asked.

For what good is a wing
That spends its life afraid of the sky?
And what is a gift
If I never give it a chance to reveal?
Maybe I was never meant to remain beneath the shadows.

Maybe somewhere beyond my fear,
There is a sky,
With my name written across it.