Tell me what you meant to do,
how you thought these small wings
could turn so large, be believed,
when you stepped from the edge.  

Tell me how the wind sang to you,
how it felt to be betrayed in the fall,
as well as all the failures before
that led to this one last after.  

I might need your words some day,
when the call to fly away from life
and living seems logical at last. 

(after the photograph “Eternity,” by Greta Buysse)