I wrote this poem as a dedication to all moms, and really any woman, who’ve helped give children wings to soar! Happy Mothers Day!
Very far into the sky
Grows a tall, old oak tree
And at the top, swaying in the wind,
Holds a nest and family.
Mama bird nestles her egg
Keeping it safe and warm and dry.
Then one day she hears a crack
Out pops a head with a greeting of “hi”.
“Little bird, baby of mine
Welcome to your life.
There’s so much for you to learn
But it won’t come without some strife.
You’ll glide and soar
It’s a beautiful place
So much for you to see.
Come little bird, don’t be afraid
Let’s fly off and be free!”
Little bird, with unsure thoughts
Slowly made his way,
Over to the edge of the nest
Looked down and became afraid.
He shook his head and said, “No, no,
“I do not want to go.
It looks too dangerous and much too big
I’ll just stay here in my home.”
Mama bird gave a smile
And gently pulled him near.
And with a loving pat on his head
Said, “child, there’s nothing to fear.”
“Yes, this world is quite big,
And so much for you to see.
But spread your wings, give it a try
Come, and fly with me.”
Little bird thought for a moment
And considered what mom had said,
Then stepped away from the edge
And stubbornly shook his head.
Mama bird gave a sigh,
And carefully chose her next words.
She once again pulled him close
To make him feel assured.
“Little bird, I understand,
The reasons why you fret.
But listen very carefully
And do not ever forget.”
“The world is big with many unknowns
There are things that will challenge you.
But it’s a beautiful place and much to learn
And to yourself you must always be true.
As a bird, flying high
You experience the suns last ray
You see the world, a more peaceful place
And no longer are afraid.
The ocean blue spreads so far
And the mountains, oh so high.
Beautiful things, both near and far
Please, just give it a try.”
Little bird, with trembling wings
Slowly made his way.
Stepped up onto the edge of the nest,
Whispering, “My journey begins today.”
And with a leap, he was air bound,
The wind beneath his wings,
Swooping and diving, twisting and turning,
Taking on whatever the wind brings.
And after he was done playing,
He allowed himself to just glide,
Realizing how much he would have missed,
Had he never tried.