Fly

She said even birds like me 
have room to spread their wings
in the sky.

Birds like me
that find comfort in the rain.

What an ugly bird I must be.

Darling, she said,
you are as beautiful as death; 

They notice you but
don’t acknowledge you are there.

But you will let them know.
You will let your voice be heard.

And they will have no choice
but to accept you.

Spread your wings—

Fly through the rain;
the sun will greet you.

Now,
fly.