Air

I consume the many miles blindly,

I know not, I feel not;

a young woman of a fuzzy mind,

an almost crushed spirit—

of sullen air.

Blown from East to West,

brought here by the winds,

I travel over water.

The ocean blurring beneath me

as I spear through the air head first,

pointing at the furthest land.

A frail and frightened creature,

caged as I am;

caged and airless in this new land.

I remain.

Year and another year.

And hope is much like a broken

television; turned on,

the dim screen fails 
to produce an image

of any clarity.

Peering into the dim monitor,

year and another year,

I remain.

Here.

My wings gain strength,

by and by, until they grow

large enough to break through bars.

I tiptoe into new air.

Into crisp air.

Open air. 

I begin to breathe;

small swigs at first,

deeper gulps at last.

In this new land. 

In this new air.