I was the bird born of yolk from a master weaver
Who built her nest high above with rigor fever.
Lady Mist lived upon our mountainous soil,
Shielding from vision the forest floor’s spoil.
My siblings birthed into this world with fascination,
Eating, drinking, gazing-- I lacked their elation.
I woke one day to an empty nest--no one in sight.
I saw petticoats and suits soaring in the light.
Frantically I pranced to the edge of home for sail,
When fear seized my frail soul and jailed me without bail.
I saw not the woodland beds nor the land beyond.
What would cushion my graceless fall to bottomless pond?
Empress Sun casts a mirage of far and fair lands.
My heart sings for my brethren and I heed its demand.
I stand at home’s edge, staring into the distance,
Which the Jealous Lady has hidden with resistance.
I tip my body over the safe cocoon house
And feel the strange, pleasant air through my plumage blouse.
I see the tails of my nest kissed by light of day.
We fly as birds of a feather from Lady’s gateway.
Beyond Her desolate kingdom holds trees of life.
To think that I, a bird, should fear my wings like knife,
Is silly, really. I enjoy life’s novelty,
Knowing having lived in shrouded kingdom poverty.
My wings, my freedom, spring alive with self-trust.
To live, to breathe, to hope, confidence is a must.
Fear not the unknown, for discovery makes bold
Those who are at first frightened. Let thy wings unfold!