Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Freedom to Fly


This morning as I was on my way to work, driving down through Central Park in a cab, I saw a woman in a child's play area on a swing. Back and forth she went, pumping the air, wind streaming behind her. She flew high up, into the blue of the sky, and I could remember what that felt like, so exhilarating and free. I envied her on that swing, her ability to seize the simple joy of a spring morning. I wanted to get out the taxi and join her, but instead I headed to my job, where the first order of the day was a meeting that left me with a wild, almost inconsolable desire to flee this steel and glass prison and run for that soaring swing.

What I'm feeling in this moment calls back the words to a song I once fell in love with. It was a haunting Marianne Faithful song called "The Hawk" and the words in part went like this:

Gotta make your own rules, child.
Got to break your own chains.
The dreams that possess you
Can blossom and bless you
Or run you insane...

Storm on the mountain
Stars in the sky
Running for glory
Freedom to fly.

3 comments:

  1. Beautiful song. I hope you get to go play on some swings soon. Take hubby too! I got a glimpse of that taste of freedom a few weeks ago during our snowfall, when Ron and I joined the neighborhood kids sledding and tubing down our driveway. Kids have no idea how good they have it, all that carefreeness. Why are they in such a hurry to grow up?

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  2. Deborah, I can picture you both sledding and tubing, especially after all that carnival carefreeness! It sounds like a grand time!

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  3. Yeah it was a grand time for a few days, but I'm glad we don't have to deal with the white stuff all winter long! ;)

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