Ottawa's Festival of Ideas Since 1997

Three Short Poems



My mother stood there with encouraging eyes looking down on me, perched in the nest. Today was the day where I had to fly, the day I could learn to stretch my wings and soar. The day to feel freedom, to have the sensation that your worries are whooshing past behind you, left to the unknown. Feeling the hot sun beating down on your wings and the gentle breeze caressing your face. It’s the choice to move in any direction you want, however you want. The outlook on a new future.
All I had to do was take that step into a new life, to jump to the other side and trust myself to spread my wings and learn to fly.


The rays of light lingered through the air as the extraordinary species awoke.
Unfolding to reach for the sunlight, a source of love and nourishment. They reach so they can feel the warmth of something that cares for them, something that lets them grow so their true colours can finally be seen.
Only when the rays of warmth fade away and subside into frost they decide to crumple in on themselves hiding their colours once more, waiting until someone will care for them again.


A mirror, it's the object everyone goes up to and wishes they could be something better, something more beautiful. It's the object people come to, and a look of disgust washes over their faces. As if their own faces were unacceptable. You look into it, then criticize yourself. You say that you’re not good enough for society. But the truth is you’re always good enough, and that you must accept your beautiful good-enough self. Society will never be accepting but it's your choice if you decide to live up to their standards. It's your choice for you to realize you can be beautiful.