Friday, June 10, 2005


Fly, my little birdie – it’s your time.

I know you aren’t sure if you will fall or soar

You’re standing at the edge, looking at the vast distance below you

And you want to go, but it’s scary – maybe the nest is refuge now, not a prison

I know there may be some stumblings, but you will find the wind again

And if you are ever in a free-fall, I will scoop you on my back and carry you

Until you can fly again on your own

Eventually you will find your valley

And be the queen of all you survey from above

I will see you fly towards the horizon until maybe you are out of sight

And I will know you are going out to find your own place in the world

But you will return sometimes, just to see where your journey began.

I love you – forever – no horizons.

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