HOW I FOUND MY WINGS
IN 12 SHORT ACTS

By Cathy P.
Flyer

Act I (enter me)

I’m born
With birth wings
Nice wings
Perfectly good wings
Wings made for flying

But when I try
To fly
I tremble
Tumble
Make mistakes

I progress
Slowly
Like a snail in winter
In the meantime
The wind grows fierce
And freezing.

“Flying’s too hard for me,” I decide.
“What I need is someone to fly with.”

So…

Act II (enter man 1)

I fall in love
With being loved
And loving

At first
He tolerates my wings
Perhaps even likes them
A little

Then one winter day…
“Your wings are in my way,” Man 1 decides.
“You must ground them. For only babies fly.”

“He must be right,” I say
“For I’m in love with loving
And lovers always know
The truth…
Don’t they?”

I grow ashamed
Of being winged
I clip them
Hide them
Make them small

They sleep

In time
They grow molded
Ice bound
Paralyzed

“My wings are growing stale,” I sigh
“But this is the price of love.”

I guess.

(Very Long Intermission)

Act III (reenter wings)

A steamy summer day
My wings ache
And throb
They drip with restless
Unfulfilled
Desire

“Go see the wing doctor,”
A friend suggests.
“She’s highly recommended
Just down the road on Flying Street.”
I go
At once.

“They ache,” I tell her.
“They’re a mess,” she says.
“Torn and tangled. Filled with puss.
Perhaps they’ll heal with use.
If not
I know a good mortuary
Discount rates.
Go home at once and try to fly.”

I tell Man 1:
“The doctor says
I have to fly to live.”

“That’s rubbish,” Man 1 says.
“You’d crash without me.
And I’m too wise to fly.”

I shiver
Shake
But have to leave to live.

I run away with trembling wings.

“You’ll crash!”
Man 1 yells
Through the slammed screen door.

Act IV

I try to fly
Alone
Again
But my torn wings tangle
Flutter
Tumble down

I crash
A lot
Get twisted up in seaweed
Crash into rocks
Splash into seawater
Keep crashing
Crash some more

“Man 1’s right,” I decide
Sitting on the bank
Nursing my wounded wings.
“This wind’s too fierce for me
I need someone
To hold me up.”

So…

Act V (enter man 2)

I fly with him
We soar to ripe new worlds
My wings drip passion
Pleasure
Pure delight

Then suddenly
Pain

“You fly too fast for me,” I say.
“I can’t keep up.
Besides I don’t much like
Your final destination.”
“My destination’s mine,” Man 2 says.
“I’ve set my course. It won’t change.”

I fly away
With sobbing, frightened wings

“I’m too bruised to fly alone,” I think.

So…

Act VI (enter man 3)

I fly with him
The sky drips laughter
Playful lust
We soar
And sing
Travel to electrifying worlds
“I could fly like this forever!” I say.

Then one day
The party’s over.
He grows too drunk to fly
His feathers stink of ale
His wings bleed gin
I cry but he can’t hear me
I plead but he won’t see

For awhile
His wings become my wings
And I too cease to fly
Again

But eventually

I fly away

Alone…

(Short Intermission)

Act VII

Still too shaky to fly solo
I decide
To take flying lessons.

I practice
Then practice more
I crash
But keep flying
For no choice now exists
“Fly or die,” I tell myself.

Seasons pass
My winter turns to spring
My wings grow
STRONG
And FULL
And F r e e
I fly wherever
Whenever
I want

I’m happy
But lonely
Still.

So…

Act VIII (enter man 4)

This one’s a
Wall Street fellow
Status quo
“Don’t rock the boat,” he says
Movement makes me nauseous.”

He laughs at my wings
“What are those things for?”
I try to hide them
Again
But my wings grow ripe with rage
“You won’t hide us
This time!” they say.

I fly away
Quickly and far

“I could fly solo,” I think

But…

Act IX (enter man 5)

We fly to planets in his Porsche
And soar through universes on his yacht
But it’s artificial flying
Dime store feathers glued in place

I fly away more quickly
This time
“I’d rather fly alone,” I say
“Than with a wingless man
Or one with wings of plastic.”

I become fussy about who I fly with
Finally.

So…

(Intermission)

Act X (enter man 6)

My wings flutter
Flirt
“What lovely wings you have,” Man 6 says
“I know,” I say.

I fly with him
I fly alone
We laugh and love
We play and ponder

But he flies too near the earth
For me
My wings grow bored
And so do I.

I fly away with strong sad wings.

Act XI (reenter me)

More flying lessons
A solo flight
Or two
Or twenty

Far and free
Soaring confidently
Into the bowels of the
Black velvet
Starlit sky

Exploring the full range of my wingspan,
I find my wings sturdy and resilient
Untangled
Unashamed

“Someone to fly with
Would be nice,” I think
“Sometimes…
But I don’t need anyone
To help me fly.”

“It’s peaceful up here
Alone
With me
There’s nothing to fear.
Why did I wait so long
To fly alone?”

Then
Unexpectedly…

Act XII (enter man 7)

Handsome
A nice set of wings
But I’m prepared to fly away
Instantly
If my flying needs aren’t met.

I stretch my wingspan wide and proud
No feathers cling unopened
“What do you think, Man 7?” I ask
Boldly.

He hesitates…

I wait.

“They’re larger than mine,” he decides
“And more resilient
But I like them.
They’re wild and muscular and drenched with color…

“I’d like to fly away with you,” he adds
To worlds I’ve just imagined.
Do you think I could ever fly as high
And free
As you do?”

“Come with me,” I tell Man 7.
I take his birth wings into mine
And lead him on a journey.

copyright 2002 Cathy P