Can an eagle ever forget how to fly,
once it has tasted the freedom of the sky
on its beak, talons and wide, feathered wings
or a peregrine, the speed of its dive,
swooping down on lives unsuspecting
of the danger, imminent from above;
then how can I stop myself from falling
in pure reflex for the wild charms of love?

The spell of love has infiltrated my soul,
as early as my heart, though minuscule,
started pumping my mother’s blood inside me,
rich in selfless love for her unborn child.

In my mother’s womb I learned how to love
selflessly, with no conditions applied!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s