This poem was written when I was recovering from Lyme disease. I was looking out the windows a gym that were from floor to ceiling. A mother bird was trying to get her baby to fly that was struggling in the grass just outside the window. The event just seem so appropriate to all life. ~ Peace
and post notes and photos about your poem.
A calm summer breeze is the day,
and I will learn to fly this very day.
I get up and try and try,
for my mother is teaching me to fly.
Looking carefully at each movement she makes,
I will do whatever it takes.
You see, if I don't fly,
I will surely die,
and those are high stakes.
Edward J. Ebbs - August 27, 2002