One Day I’ll Fly Away. Photo by Hayley Roberts. For The Sunday Muse Prompt #66. \\\* Waiting here before this wall of burnt brick reaching high above my head freedom seems distant a mirage shimmering in the distance; promised. Hope deferred makes sick the longing heart, but in this sliver of breaking light, the echo of the promise rings, one day I’ll spread my wings and fly away.
For The Sunday Muse prompt #40 and The Sunday Whirl Wordle 388. In The Middle of Freedom, Image Source. \\\* My fingers mould the pliant clay beneath the surface of this puddle into an image of a memory; each mound of earth rubbed round between my fingers a portion of a story emerging like birds set free from a gilded cage. The memory is a chain anchoring the fluid present to the stable past. It pulses like a thing that lives - somehow more alive with freedom than at first it would seem.
I find the story of Isaac, Esau and Jacob intriguing, how guile and subtlety wins over brash power. Even though Isaac gave the blessing to Jacob, I find it interesting that Isaac mentions that Esau will only be under the yoke of Jacob until he gets restless. Perhaps every situation I am in at the moment is only because I have not been restless enough to break out from the chains and limitations…….