SMother Bird

O’ Mother Bird, let me use my wings and soar.

I’m old as the middle, viewed as a chick

with my wings clipped.

I can only reach out mere feet beyond the nest

before you call me back again.

Veer myself to the leaves without a chirp, and you assumed you lost me.

O’ Mother Bird, let me use my wings and soar.

-----

Sister Bird has a nest of her own;

she left long ago.

When Daddy Bird was still here,

Brother Bird has already flown across the treeline,

Ready to create another home.

I’m the adult treated like a youngling.

O’ Mother Bird, let me use my wings and soar.

-----

I quiver about the span of life-

dying alone in the old nest

where you either find me alive

or a ghost– this place is my cage.

How long until you let me go

despite my years of singing?

O’ Mother Bird, let me use my wings and soar.

-----

In my little ‘egg’ for the nest,

Dreaming about flying and achieving places–

almost romanticized–

into many storylines–

into many tragedies and greater lives,

like flying in a thunderstorm instead of fair skies.

O’ Mother Bird, let me use my wings and soar.

-----

I ground as the burdened duck,

Heavy as the stone, and I’m fully grown;

I’m still grounded.

Am I never going to fly?

Your worries are pinning me down,

Let me chirp, unclipped my wings, let me go.

O’ Mother Bird, let me use my wings and soar.