I have flapped and floundered in quicksand of uncertainty
Unable to find my footing, slipping from solid ground
Longing to take flight, to reach impossible heights
My own fears and insecurity pulled me down
Keeping me tethered by a tenuous cord
The slightest tug, the merest effort would yield my freedom
This trap, a prison of my making
Failure, ridicule, expectation, disappointment
Stone and mortar walling me in
Brick upon brick I fortify this illusion
Bogus confidence a thin veneer disguising self-doubt
I have cried out in despair, weary of my inertia
I want to break away, to soar
Thin spiral notebook 
oh, Tara . . . yes, and yes.
This trap, a prison of my making . . .
soar, my friend . . . we’ll catch up, see you there or meet you in the air. 🙂
LikeLike
the daily trials of a writer 🙂
LikeLike
I feel like this so often, one day I am stronger..the next and the next I am weak and vulnerable.
I think all of us just want to soar, to hit the heights we know we are capable of reaching.
the prose was really beautiful. I like the line about us tethering ourselves, that we are often the only one holding ourselves back.
LikeLike
It sounds like the voice of the bird and a beautiful metaphor. Great image as well.
LikeLike
Definitely soaring ~ Such freedom ~ Great shot and post ~ happy weekend ^_^
LikeLike
A wonderful photo and prose!
LikeLike
This describes so well how we can just sabotage ourselves out of fear and doubt, when all we need to do is just make one little step to break out. Very well done
LikeLike
I don’t know if you’ve ever played Red Dead Redemption, but I’ve got the strongest urge to shoot this bird.
LikeLike