Weary bird with fleeting breaths and stumbling steps; your wings twisted with your disposition as you fell through tree tops and met me in this collision. Once singing dulcet songs that resonated throughout the skies; sparking envy in those who were grounded, not yet found, utterly dead inside and out. But your spirit is damaged now and you’ve fallen from that cloud. My fragile bird, stay close behind as I help you rediscover the euphoria that was once so divine.

Your wings are finally healing as my heart is suddenly bursting. I cannot bear to see you leave, but I must accept your new found wings. After all, a bird that is meant to be set free is not keen to the idea of captivity.

I’ve disposed of your cage and keep a feather you’ve left as a reminder of the beginning of my coming of age. I wonder if you’ve found the life that you seek. If it is so, would I be distraught or filled with glee? My uncertainty causes nothing but a frustrated sigh. I look up to regain bliss in the sight of the clear sky, but instead catch a glimpse of you soaring by effortlessly; perfectly fine.

My flightless bird has learned to fly.