• Language

Birds in Boxes

Birds in Boxes.


Like birds in boxes, we are all dreaming of flight. I completely understand your reluctance, my friend. The earth is solid, safe. Our flesh is the very stuff of soil. The earth’s gentle curve helps us to keep our perspective. Still, there will be a universe of days for us to rest within its dark, maternal loam. Until then—why not fly?

Entering the Forest

I walk into the woods, deep and far. I walk until I feel that if I take one more step, just one final step, I will be lost forever. I have paused between trees—twin pines standing like giants in the dying sun. I fill my lungs with air until my heartbeat pounds for mercy. And then with a screaming release of breath, I exhale concrete buildings. I exhale automatic transmissions. I exhale iron gates and traffic lights. Suddenly there is nothing but forest, and I take one more step.

watercolor sketch of forest

Watercolor sketch on artist trading card