There once lived a little birdie on the most bizarre branches of a far tree,
She sat on branches and would watch the sun go up and down like her father's wings
She felt inspired so she flapped them too hard and too long.
She liked it but she liked her home better,
Little birdie decided she wouldn't fly,
Others birdies flew high around the sun.
But little birdie sat on her branch singing for people passing by,
Little birdie liked ogling moon at night instead of sleeping.
Big and old birds pried each morning "those wings, Can they fly?"
Little birdie didn't know but she had faith that they did.
But she was scared to break through the pleasure into a world of eagles and crows.
She sought redemption for not flying, she kept mincing joy with life.
She was afraid of growing up,
But she did.
Suddenly, eventually, beautifully.
When other birdies were coming back home.
Tired and lost, weak and moist.
She was alive, ready for her first flight.
She stepped outside her nest,
Almost frantically fell,
But sky caught her.
And she flapped her wings up and down just like her father's.
And went to every place moon and sun shone their light at.
Little birdie wasn't little anymore,
She always remembered the days of difference between this world and her, Days of singing and dreaming and being afraid.
And now when those days were over, she became a spirit of love and slowly carved gift of nature.
********
Pause and remember It is never too late to begin again, to forgive someone, to have a dream, to meet someone or to start love yourself. It is never too late!
-Jenni Young
Like, Share and Comment.
YOU ARE READING
UNSPOKEN
Poetry"Cigarette or any other drugs don't nearly cause as much destruction as our thoughts do. So, don't leave them Unspoken" ****
