I see how hard you’ve tried
to lap the milk
from the saucer
placed in front of you,
to pad softly
across the floorboards,
to bat at the ball of yarn.
Your willingness
to be the thing
you were trained to be—
the sincerity of your efforts
to get it right—
humble me.
But you’re a hawk
not a kitten.
Beak and talon
have made these lessons hard.
You’ve grown accustomed
to the ache
of wings folded tight.
It’s time to stop
this make-believe.
Embrace your intensity,
your steel,
your size.
Unfurl your wings
to create
the spaciousness you need.
Use the breadth
you’ve been given
for flight.
This is the end of awkward,
the end of effort,
and the beginning of
a mighty love
for what you are.
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