Labor Pains


Labor Pains

by Denise Fuehrer Burnette

Like a bird

I flew

weightlessly

through the sky

of hope

and endless possibility

 

Over the horizon

I could see

in my mind’s eye

the promised land

that someday

certainly

I would reach

 

Others laughed

from there safe haven below

weighted by the chains

of reality

and the blinders of fear

 

And I pitied them

in my foolishness

as if I was not as blind as they

so mesmerized by my fantasy

that I did not realize

the weight of those chains

the darkness of those blinders

 

Now, as I wade through

this murky sea of possibility

I realize

that dreaming is light

and beautiful

and the fire for becoming

but alone, dreaming is just dreaming

 

And doing,

doing is heavy

and dark

and it’s weight can crush

even the best of the dreamers

 

But dreaming without doing

is no greater a fate

than doing without dreaming

 

One soul in the heavens

the other on earth

neither with the power

to move mountains

one without vision

the other without hands

 

It is the brave soul

with one foot in each world

the dreamer

who despite the pain of labor

gives birth to her dreams

who sculpts the chaos of becoming

into a masterpiece of being

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