A call

A sudden call

seems to be heard,

from beyond the cracking wall.

A decade of stories

from failings, miseries

full of holes, falls

has been built

written off, learnt.

Now

the being

is beginning to rise

suddenly ears comforting the eyes

if I jump off

a ten-storied building

I know

my wings will not let me die

I am prepared to fly.

My nest

from where I began my journey

is perhaps calling me

to carry on

with the unfinished text

I am getting ready

as it were, to sing

to take off with the lost identity

and flutter the rest

of the times left, a-borning*!

*a-borning – wishing of new hope; a colloquialism. The word I learnt from a well-known poet from England, Herb Bryce. I wish he reads it!