One Day

But I always thought to myself:

One Day,

But I didn't know when that

One Day,

would be.

But for some it was:

Yesterday--actually the day after:

Yesterday,

But, back to:

Yesterday

A yellow baby bird, 

there was,

stuck in the crevice of a nest,

paralyzed by the thought of flight,

of freedom,

of independence.

But that was:

Yesterday.

Today was different.

"But"--that's what the bird,

thought,

always thinking was the 

yellow bird.

But not:

Today.

Today, cuddled underneath

the warm feathered crevice

of its mother's arm,

like a teddy bear tucked underneath

the warm covers of a bed,

the yellow bird flew.

But it flew and wasn't afraid.

It was free.

But that was the yellow bird,

and that was:

Today for the bird.

But for me,

I'm stuck,

Like the bird is--

or I guess was--

in the:

Yesterday.

I knew that One Day would come,

and that day was not predicated on:

Yesterday.

It was predicated on:

Today and Tomorrow.

I am sure of it.

Today, I discard the "but" 

and the stuck-ness of:

Yesterday,

Because like the yellow bird,

I choose to be free of the stuck-ness,

I choose to be pushed by the wind and thrown out of my dark crevice.

I knew I had to choose soon.

Because yesterday will always come,

and with:

Yesterday,

Is the stuck-ness.

I know only I can choose what day is:

One Day.