The Telos of Flight

The note reminds me,

"First learn to fly, then fly away."

But see: I've learned and flown quite far.

And now a fearful voice queries,

"Know you how to land?"

A Fraction of the Whole

I caught myself looking at each of them
with jealousy.
Here I was surrounded by
women of a higher
status.
One might think I have it backward;
shouldn’t the academic
over-rank the domestic?
And yet, I hold my ground:
we were the minority;
the mostly young,
pursuing our own
careers.
Shouldn’t I be proud
of my drive,
of my courage,
of my strength,
of my intellect,
of my self-imposed
hardness?
Gentle voices
and gentle hearts
surrounded me.
Wives and mothers.
Women.
I don’t feel like a woman;
I feel like a brain
with a vagina,
shoving information into my mind
while my soul
cries
in lonely
starvation.
Who am I,
and what am I doing here?
My name is little girl,
and I am utterly lost.

Would You Like to Dip Your Wing in My Glass of Milk?

He said,

"Congratulations,

You are the cream of the crop."

Sometimes 

I believe it of myself.

Certainly

I believe it of Sarah

(With her MDiv from Princeton),

Or of Simon

(With his background in philosophy

And metaphysics).

But me?--

Soured milk.

A fallen angel

Being given a second chance

At a pair of wings.

A flicker of recognition

At the sound of my name. 

What is he thinking,

This programme director of mine?

Will he grant me permission

To hear a bell ring?