‘To the Fledgling Perched in the Gate of the Hen-run’ on 23 November 2010

July 27, 2011

I wonder if you sit by choice. Why do you not choose to fly?
The skys are your domain, high you will rise,
to gaze down on the earth below.
Little Thrush, it will take courage, to leap forth,
to spread your winds and break free.
Yet, move you do not.
Are you idle, refusing to rise and meet the challnge that awaits you?
You must take up your lot to become what you must,
or forever you will scamper from shrub to shrub, hiding from the world.
Are you caught there, paralysed and unable to escape?
For your breast heaves with fear as ou remain there alone.
Perhaps all you need is a gentle nudge, or so you would think,
a friend to guide you our of your labrynth of uncertainty.
However, this is but your first challenge,
and your character shall be defined by your willingness to set yourself free.

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