I thought I was holding on to this ONE life I knew.
My heart feeling the weight of having died a thousand deaths.
I thought I was the tree, whose roots dug so deep,
So deep that it was surely invincible.
I thought I was the tree that houses the egg,
the chick.
Providing a safe place in which to grow,
and from which to leave.
I thought my role was to grow deep roots,
and multiple branches,
and rich green leaves.
I thought I felt the a pain of my roots being cut,
my body toppled.
But I have died a thousand deaths.
And I know now that I am one of the birds.
And as the roots are cut, and the tree is toppled,
My leaves turn to wings,
the wings of thousands of birds.
And I fly.
I fly.
– Katarina Thorsen