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LEARNING HOW TO FLY by Nosakhare Collins 

Even though i found my body happily smiling each morning,

There is something missing.

I pluck my sorrow on a daytime;

After then i nail it into my roof;

And spring them into the air;

Throw them into the sea;

Until it become free in the air;

Because each time i learn how to fly with feathers;

My body dwells with tranquility;

Until then i still spin in earth;

Until then am still learning;

Learning to know where i came from;

And learning how to fly with feather and embracing felicities.

Original poem written by: Nosakhare Collins © 2017

 

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