Has she ever told you the story about the night she learned to fly?
It was all she could do to keep running, keep her feet moving through the blades of wet grass and thick brush. Her thoughts were scattered as she felt her heart beating up and out of her throat, almost like a plea to keep her pretty little mouth closed. No shoes, no pants, and a ripped shirt frantically making their way through the thick, heavy, and chilly night. “What if he’s onto me? What if my scattered thoughts are leaving scented crumbs of fear behind? Oh God why is this happening? Why can’t I fly?” Then suddenly her feet left the ground, and her arms became wings. Her face felt the rush of the wind and the iciness of its sting. Her cheeks were being brushed with cold patches of clouds as she soared through the night’s sky, her heart no longer beating aloud. She flew, leaving the dirt of her feet, her soul, her pain behind. She felt like a bird, a wide winged super human sparrow, a heroine of her own life. Suddenly laser focused, target of home in her sights, the daring escape artist locked her eyes on the earth’s cratered nightlight. This is the heroes dream, the final fight, good versus evil, live or die. No more running, no more hiding, the brave child-woman was as fast as lightening. It was not the sun who came to her side, to swallow the perverse and wickedness of mankind. It was not the praised bright light in the sky, or happy rays of warmth and sunshine. Her frozen body trapped in time, her blood boiled her back to life. It was a blaze and a fire lit within the mind, that grew and grew until it was time to take flight. She was a fearless woman ascending like a Phoenix from the murky wet earth, ashes black as the eyes of sharks. This is the night her spirit soared. This is the night the moon ate the dark.
There is hope in the darkness. There are lessons in the pain. There is strength in weakness. And there is courage to be found in fear. Grow through it all.
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