Until

I set myself a challenge to write a poem based on a painting. I chose this piece by Michael Shapcott.

michael shapcott - the girl and the owl

Until

I once was a woman
who could fly.
But now my wings have been clipped
and I simply perch
high in a tree and wait
until one day they might grow again.

Until that day I wait and wonder
what is passing me by,
as I sit here in my captive castle,
trapped (drowning) in my own melancholic tendencies.
A sad swelling emptiness
fueled by my isolation.

Until my wings grow.
Until my wings grow.
Until they grow.

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