you never asked to fly.
 
you never craved the sky as your freedom
        never coveted the sun or the sea as your lover
        never claimed the birds as your friends and the wind as your servant.
 
you never wanted to
    soar with a halo of sunglare behind your head
    bear wings like angels bearing news of the heavens
    wave weighted arms like a sparrow trying to cross the ocean.
you never forged wings 
     of beeswax and fallen feathers
     of molten wax dripping feathers like molting birds.
 
you never threatened to break into the realm of gods
     to breathe their sacred air or
     to drink their sacred ambrosia or
     to steal their sacred fire.
 
you never even asked
     for sunshine and blue skies
     to gaze upon on lonely days
and you never even asked
     for moonlight and constellations
     to keep company on cold nights.
 
it’s too bad
                         that you had to fall
                                                                anyway.